


Forever

by lpfan503



Series: Confession Series [3]
Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage, Post-Band
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2019-10-24 08:05:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lpfan503/pseuds/lpfan503
Summary: “The next time I look into your eyes will be the beginning of our forever.” From the end of ‘Confession’ to 'Forever' is where part three of Mike and Chester’s story lives.





	1. Daffodils and Lilies

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome. :) 
> 
> Within the next ten chapters lies the answer to the question, “how exactly did _forever_ turn out for Mike and Chester?” 
> 
> So… I hope you can follow this. It’s a mix of present day and memories, both Mike and Chester’s. I guess it’s flashbacks? But not really, since you will see both sides of the memory - kind of like a narration of their combined recollection of the story being told. If it’s a hot mess and you can’t follow, let me know. It makes sense in my head, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’ll restructure the whole story if this isn’t working. <3

“Have you thought about it, love?” 

Chester reached a hand toward Mike, gently brushing his silver streaked hair away from his forehead, smiling into his husband’s dark eyes. “I have, Mikey. Don’t you worry. Everything will be exactly the way you want it. And I won’t leave you alone for long.”

Mike nodded, letting his eyes close with the thought, _I’m so tired. I’m tired of being tired._ “I love you, Ches. I want you to know, I wouldn’t change a moment with you,” he whispered. 

There were tears in his eyes that Chester couldn’t let Mike see. He rested his forehead on the bed and took a deep breath, fighting back the emotions that were threatening to take his voice. He turned his face out of the blanket enough to say, “me either. Not a single one. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. Every bit of it, even if it brought us right back here. You’re my whole life, Mike Shinoda.” He felt Mike’s hand move, felt it land on his shaved head with the touch of a butterfly. 

“And you’re mine. My _life_ ,” Mike breathed, his fingertips caressing over Chester’s velvety hair for mere seconds before the fatigue became overwhelming. “Stay,” he whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Chester responded simply, lifting his head to slide his eyes over Mike’s familiar face, recognizing the moment his soulmate slipped back into sleep again, leaving him alone on the other side of consciousness.

**

The windows in the bedroom were open, the sheer white gossamer curtains blowing gently in the early morning breeze as Mike Shinoda sat quietly in his corner chair. He could hear his pencil scratching the paper as he sketched absently, a scene unfolding on the paper in front of him. Even though he’d always turned to art when he couldn’t sleep, or to relieve his stress and anxiety, it wasn’t doing much calm his mind at the moment.

The small antique bronze lamp that sat on the table between his and Chester’s chairs only illuminated the room in the faintest glow, but it was enough light for him to see his husband sprawled out on the white bedsheets. They matched the soft gray blankets in the dim lighting, but Mike’s practiced eye differentiated between the shades of white and gray easily, and he added more or less pressure to his pencil to perfectly replicate the scene in front of him. 

_Maybe I should do another art show. A whole gallery of pictures of Chester._ The idea rolled around in his head for a moment. _I only have decades of material to choose from. I’d need a whole floor, just for him._

He looked up as Chester stretched languidly in his sleep, then rolled over and grew still again, and a fond smile touched his lips. _I wish I could sleep like that. Totally unconscious. Peaceful._

As if to contradict his thoughts, Chester smoothed a hand over the empty mattress in front of him, then called out sleepily, “Mikey?”

The sound of Chester’s voice was all it took for Mike to quickly abandon his sketchbook and robe in his chair and slide into bed, pulling Chester’s warm body against him and whispering, “I’m here, love.” Mike felt Chester melt against him, and he nuzzled his face into Chester’s hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. 

“What time is it?” Chester mumbled, his arms sliding around Mike with familiar ease.

“Early,” Mike murmured softly. “It’s still dark out. Go back to sleep, I’m right here.” 

“You never sleep anymore,” Chester complained softly, squeezing Mike close.

It was true. Mike had been having a hard time sleeping for months, a restless feeling keeping him awake when he should have been able to turn his mind off. There was an energy that wouldn’t let him rest, and so far he hadn’t found a suitable outlet for that energy. “Sorry, love,” he whispered, “I don’t mean to keep you awake.” 

Chester sighed, burrowing closer to Mike’s bare chest. “You’ve got to stop thinking about it.” He sounded only slightly more coherent than he had just moments earlier.

“I know.” Mike closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He pulled the scent of Chester’s lavender body wash into his lungs and exhaled, willing himself to relax. He knew Chester was right. Obsessing over the past, over decisions made, wasn’t helping anything. He felt Chester’s lips against his chest and rubbed his hand down Chester’s back. “Go back to sleep. I’ll stay in bed, I promise.” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Chester hummed in response, and he felt his thoughts slipping back into sleep.

Somehow the sound of Chester’s breathing, the warmth of his body, managed to lull Mike to sleep just as the sun was rising. Just a few weeks ago Chester had finally brought up his concerns about Mike’s irregular sleeping patterns, and this day, when he woke just before eight, he wasn’t surprised to see his husband completely knocked out next to him. 

He lay looking at Mike for a few minutes while his mind shed the residual fuzziness from being asleep all night. He’d always loved the way Mike’s jet black hair and darker features looked against a white pillowcase, even more so now that there was an occasional glittering strand of silver in his locks or his beard. One of the things they frequently laughed about was their obsession with white sheets. They were normal and comforting, and after years and years of sleeping on white hotel sheets, neither of them could imagine having anything else. 

_He’s finally asleep. I wonder how long he’ll sleep this time. I feel like I hardly see him in the mornings anymore. I can’t think of the last time we had coffee together. I miss watching him wake up over his first cup. The way he rubs his eyes with his whole hand, and the little yawns and smiles._ Chester stretched and turned over, grabbing his phone off the charger and checking the time. _I bet he’ll sleep until noon. I’m not going to bother him. I’ve got stuff to do anyway._ A full out grin passed over his face as he thought about the surprises this day had in store for his husband. He’d been working on his surprise for over a month, and planning something with the added challenge of not slipping up and giving it away had been thrilling. 

Keeping it a secret from Mike had been easier than he originally thought. His husband hadn’t been as attentive to what was happening around him as he usually was, which was currently working to Chester’s advantage. He’d been immersed in his art lately, and Chester was glad Mike had something to keep his mind occupied, but it clearly wasn’t enough to wear him out during the day. They still lay down together each night, but Chester knew once he fell asleep Mike was getting out of bed. He woken up more than once without Mike by his side, where he’d slept for years. 

It seemed as though each night were different. Maybe Mike painted, maybe he sketched, and Chester would find him still working when he woke up. Sometimes Chester awoke and the entire downstairs had been dusted, even though they had a housekeeper. Once he’d woken to the smell of a freshly baked apple pie, and the two of them had eaten pie in bed for breakfast and then swapped blow jobs - and Chester decided right then and there that the combination of warm pastries and oral sex was truly a great way to wake up. 

All of that was before Mike’s sleepless nights started to worry him, before Mike started to sleep during the daytime.

Chester remembered the days he used to sleep when the sun was up, and he was still in denial that Mike - _his Mike_ \- his touchstone, his strength, his savior, was struggling. That denial was the reason he was so sure his surprise plan would be a catalyst, a push in the direction of making things right again. He couldn’t go back and undo what had been done, but he wanted to make things better. They still had too much life ahead of them to spend it on opposite sleep schedules and longing for the past.

**

“Ches?” 

Chester sat upright suddenly, his back aching from the position he’d fallen asleep in. “What is it?” he asked, his brain instantly on alert at the sound of Mike’s voice.

“Love… come lay with me?” Mike asked, his voice low and needy. He let his eyes drift across the room to the open windows, and a smile touched his lips. “I was dreaming about you.”

“Oh, you were?” Chester said as he got up and rounded the bed, carefully crawling in on his side and laying as close as he dared to Mike. “Is this okay?” He searched Mike’s eyes for any sign of pain, but his husband looked more alert than he had in days, his eyes sparkling.

“You’re fine.” Mike smiled as Chester lay a slender hand on his chest, right over his heart. “I was dreaming about this room. I think it might have been a special day, an anniversary day, or something. I was drawing you, and the windows were open, like you have them now. You blindfolded me.”

“I remember that,” Chester nodded with a grin, the memory flashing through his mind before he pulled the blankets tighter around Mike’s shoulders. 

“Tell that story, Chester. Tell me about it again.” 

Mike’s dark eyes were pleading, and Chester would do anything, tell any story Mike wanted if it would make him happy. “You were whiney in the car,” Chester giggled softly, remembering. “For once, I actually surprised you.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Mike mumbled as he shut his eyes. “I’m listening. Tell me.”

**

“Ches, you know it drives me crazy to be blindfolded, and being blindfolded in the car is a million times worse than when you do it in bed. I’m thinking through every turn you’ve made, and I know we’re close to the coast. I can only assume Santa Monica.” Mike twisted his hands together in his lap, fidgeting restlessly with his fingers in the absence of something else to occupy his always active mind as Chester’s light laughter hit his ears.

“I can’t tell you,” Chester nearly sang, his voice pitched with excitement. “Stop trying to ruin the surprise, Mikey. Let me enjoy the fact that I have finally managed to be a step ahead of you on something.”

“A step ahead?” Mike’s thoughts were methodically ticking through scenarios that might be applicable to the situation he found himself in currently, but he couldn’t figure out what his husband was up to, even though he felt he knew Chester better than he knew himself. 

He could easily picture Chester in his mind. Every angle and curve, every long line of his body. Each and every tattoo, and he could mix from memory any type of media - oil, acrylic, watercolor - to paint those tattoos in their exact colors. He knew from touch and sight every definition in the abs Chester still worked on every day in their home gym. There was an endless supply of gauges and plugs his husband wore in his ears, and Mike could picture each and every pair. He knew the shape of his head and the texture of his hair, especially now that it was shaved again. Mike knew Chester’s body intimately, and while his eyesight was stolen from him, he painted pictures in his mind. 

“One whole step,” Chester confirmed, chuckling again. “I have to say, though, it was way too easy to get you to agree to wear that blindfold.”

“Well, it’s been a while since we used it,” Mike complained lightly. “Here I was thinking you were gonna blindfold and ravish me, and you took me out and dumped me in the car. What a buzz kill,” he teased.

Chester smirked. “Sorry. Sometimes I just have to trick you to get what I want.” Chester smoothly pulled his Mercedes into a parking spot, and he saw Mike shift forward in his seat as he felt the movement stop. 

“Can I take it off?” Mike asked, lifting his hand up toward his face. He laughed as Chester swatted his hand away.

“No! Wait a second. And don’t touch that blindfold.” Mike heard Chester get out of the car, and in record time he was opening the passenger door. “Here, take my hand and I’ll help you out,” Chester said, grabbing for Mike’s hand. “No cheating.”

All of Mike’s teeth were on display as he smiled wide. “Never. I’d never ruin your surprise. Whatever it is, Ches, I can tell you’re excited. You have that sound in your voice.” He let himself be helped from the car, and he heard traffic in front of them. “I love your voice. I’ve always loved your voice,” he added tenderly.

“Sometimes I think that’s all you want me for, is my voice,” Chester teased. He knew that Mike would know he was only joking, even though it had been a sore subject between them years ago. Once they both finally admitted their feelings for each other, and once they were both very secure in their commitment to each other, it had become a running joke. “And hell yeah, I’m excited.” He shut the car door behind Mike and listened for the automatic beep indicating that the Mercedes had locked itself. Satisfied, he put his arms around Mike and stood behind him. “Are they still closed, Shinoda?” Chester husked in Mike’s ear, pleased when his husband nodded without saying a word. “You ready?” Mike nodded again, and Chester reached up to loosen the knot on his makeshift blindfold. 

Mike eagerly opened his eyes, and found himself looking directly at a building across the street from where Chester had parked the car. It was black, with white windows and awnings, a red door, and he could see a second floor terrace. It wasn’t big, but it looked posh even at a distance, and Mike cut his eyes over to Chester, who was grinning ear to ear.

“I have no idea what this place is,” Mike said, waving a hand across the street at the building, still in the dark about Chester’s big surprise.

“Well, let’s get you over there and find out. I didn’t want to cross the street with you blindfolded, or I’d have waited to take it off until we got inside. But, this will work. Come on, Mikey.” Chester grabbed for Mike’s hand, tugging him along behind him. “I promise, it’s worth it.”

They crossed the street, Mike still trying to figure out what Chester had planned, and they were inside the red first floor door and he was reading the hostess stand sign before it started to dawn on him what was happening. “Venue 66,” he read slowly, just as he was confronted with a framed picture of himself with Chester. It was from their honeymoon, their smiles bright, the crystal ocean and lush greenery of Maui behind them. “Chester, our anniversary is still a week away!” he protested with a grin as he realized what was happening.

“Surprise, Mikey.” Chester wrapped his arm around Mike’s waist and pulled him in close to him, nuzzling a kiss right behind his ear as he flung his free arm out. “Look around, the whole place is ours for the night.”

Mike did as he was told, scanning the intimate space that appeared to be set for a fancy dinner, white linens on the table and silver chargers with napkins and menus at each place setting. The center of the table was full of rustic aluminum buckets, filled with daffodils, lilies, and greenery, and Mike scrunched his nose playfully at the combination. “Ok, Ches. What’s the deal with the flowers,” he teased. “That’s a very untraditional combination you’ve got going on there. And it looks like we’re expecting others?”

“All the guys, their partners, Jim and his wife, Ryan and Amir and their wives, Trish and Dan, and Tal and Maro.” Chester ticked the list off with his fingers and flashed a grin, then paused for a minute as Mike dropped his hand to step forward and look at all of the pictures he’d brought in for the hostess stand display. There was the first ever picture of the band, and Chester couldn’t remember but thought it was taken in 1998. There were snapshots of every conceivable style change he and Mike had gone through over the years - their baggy clothes and dyed hair, piercings and bracelets, all the way to Mike’s flannels and Chester’s bold print shirts. There were pictures from award shows, pictures of the two of them with their first Grammy. Pictures of the two of them with their newest Grammy just a few years ago. Pictures of their wedding, pictures in the studio, pictures from vacations and tours. 

Mike reached out to pick up a picture from Linkin Park’s last ever show together. Chester watched silently as Mike carefully ran his finger down the side of frame and inspected it, almost reverently. He could tell just from the expression on Mike’s face that he was thinking about it again. _He’s wondering if we made a mistake. I shouldn’t have put that one here. I was right. That’s what’s been on his mind so much lately._

“Hey,” he said quietly, tugging on the sleeve of Mike’s deep purple dress shirt, “I didn’t mean for that one to upset you.” He held his breath as Mike turned to focus his dark eyes on him.

“I’m not upset. You know how I get about it. I still can’t believe you don’t miss it.” Mike looked down at the picture in his hand again before he placed it back with the others. “But you were right, love. It was time,” he forced himself to say. At the time Linkin Park decided to end their touring career after twenty-five years, Mike really thought that they would keep making music, that going into the studio and making an album would be something the six of them wouldn’t be able to stay way from for very long. But as the weeks slid into months and the months turned into years, Mike was forced to realize that his bandmates were enjoying the new phase of their lives. They were all busy being husbands and fathers, and their children were all growing up. 

It had been a mutual decision, just like every decision Linkin Park ever made - and everyone but Mike seemed to have adjusted to their new reality. 

Chester nodded, not quite sure that Mike really believed what he was saying, but determined not to start a conversation they couldn’t finish before the others arrived. Selfishly, he didn’t want it to detract from what he had planned either. In fact, he was trying very hard to get Mike’s mind off what they no longer had, and focus it on what they now had together. Their life the way they’d dreamed, the life they’d planned together before they ever knew it could be a reality. He wanted this night to remind Mike of everything they had gained together, and as he started to remind him, to tick those things off a list, Mike turned to Chester and took his hands.

“I love you,” he husked with a smile. “I can’t believe you planned all of this. And I thought I was going to surprise you next Thursday.” Mike rubbed his thumbs over the backs of Chester’s hands. “Thank you for planning this for us. I already think it’s fantastic.”

“I love you, too.” Chester leaned close, pressing a soft kiss to Mike’s parted lips. “Oh! You asked about the flowers… you’ll probably think it’s stupid…” Chester felt a sudden pang of uncertainty as he glanced over at the centerpieces he’d insisted upon. He wasn’t entirely sure the symbolism was as meaningful as it seemed in his head.

“Really, love? After all this time, you think there’s anything you can do that I would find stupid?” Mike rolled his eyes and pulled Chester closer. “Just tell me. Don’t make me guess. All the suspense of the drive over about did me in, you know.”

With a sassy smile, Chester asked, “well, you know about, like, ‘traditional anniversary presents’, right?”

“You mean, like paper for the first anniversary, and so on?” Mike looked around, but he wasn’t making the connection just yet. “What about them?”

“There’s flowers to go with them. And the ten-year anniversary flower is the daffodil.”

Mike couldn’t hold back the amused snort. “Really? A Daffodil? That’s so… random!”

“I know,” Chester agreed, grinning at the sound of Mike’s laugh. They had always been that way, and once they started down the path of entertaining each other, it was hard to stop. He could feel the joy resonating in his body from seeing Mike’s smile. “I kept looking at the little chart, at each flower that’s been assigned to a milestone year, and the thirty year anniversary is the lily. So I thought, why not both? I know to everyone else, this is ten years of marriage for us. But we both know it’s a different sort of anniversary. If you want to break it all down, to be real about it, this year is thirty years for us, Mikey. _Thirty._ ” His eyes glittered with amusement as Mike stared at him.

 _Thirty years. I’ll never understand how time can go by so quickly._ Mike looked at his husband, a wave of nostalgia and longing crashing over him. _It’s Chester. It’s gone by so fast because of him. And we’re in our fifties… we could potentially have less years left than we’ve already shared._ He shook away the distressing thought and leaned in to take Chester’s mouth again in a sweet kiss. “I love all of it,” Mike murmured against his lips before he pressed in, again, sucking Chester’s bottom lip into his mouth the way he’d been doing for years, the way he knew made his husband’s knees weak. One thing that hadn’t changed in ten years was the love he had for kissing Chester. _His_ Chester. After ten years of marriage, there were still days that it didn’t seem real.

He pulled back, the separation of their lips making a soft, wet sound, and gently pushed Chester’s glasses up for him. “You’re such a romantic. Daffodils and lilies, such a unlikely pair.”

“I’d say that about us, but everyone seemed to know before we did,” Chester mused, dragging his fingers down the front of Mike’s shirt as he stepped back. “You ready to celebrate the fuck out of this evening, love?”

“Let’s do it,” Mike said, lacing their fingers together again, turning toward the door as the first of their guests arrived. He was looking forward to an evening with everyone back together again. 

**

“There was karaoke,” Mike said, his eyes opening a little, catching Chester off guard.

“There was,” he confirmed, “and I think you sang more than I did that night.”

“Your voice… you were tired.” Mike focused his eyes on Chester, his gaze serious. “You were right, you know. When it was time to stop. I never told you that, love. When we ended… when your voice was tired… it was hard for me to understand. I’m sorry if I took it out on you.”

“Shhh,” Chester hushed, shaking his head a little. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to. I don’t know if there will be anything beyond this, Ches. I don’t want anything left unsaid between us.” Slowly Mike reached his finger toward Chester’s bottom lip, feeling the tremble as he touched him. “Even though you know. You’ve always known me.”

“And you’ve always known me,” Chester affirmed, kissing Mike’s fingerprint. 

“Please,” Mike begged softly, “come here, Ches. Kiss me.”

Chester inched his way over, his hand coming up to cup Mike’s cheek, his thumb stroking over the salt and pepper facial hair he loved. “I love you,” he breathed, gently brushing his lips across Mike’s, light as the sheer gossamer curtains blowing at the windows.

He felt Mike’s fingers curl under his chin, urging him closer, and Chester allowed the kiss to deepen on Mike’s terms, being careful not to press in too hard.

“You’re afraid to hurt me,” Mike murmured, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips grazing over Chester’s. “I don’t hurt, Ches. I’m just tired. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like the room is covered in daffodils and lilies, like we’ve got all time in the world.”

Chester’s hand slid down to grip Mike’s pajama shirt in his hand, twisting the fabric as his heart twisted in his ribcage. _All the time in the world. I wish we had all the time in the world._

**********  
TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N # 2 - A RESPONSE TO YOUR COMMENTS/EMAILS
> 
> This doesn't pick up where Confession left off. We're way in the future. Like, Mike and Ches are nearing 70. They have lived a lot of life together, and clearly very happily based on how close they are right now. It took me a while to get this posted because 'forever' is a long time. It would be impossible to tell a linear story and cover 30 years of their lives. Secrets covered 10 years and it was a struggle.
> 
> I promise you that almost everything in this story will be good memories between them. Life happens and it's hard, of course, and the reality is that we don't live forever. You guys have trusted me this far with this story and this Mike and Chester. 400,000 words of these two. Trust me when I say that this might get emotional toward the end, but the goal is to show their life and their marriage, not to make you unhappy. Of course I understand if this isn't what you wanted/expected... but this is the route I've chosen, so I hope you'll come along. <3


	2. Lavender and Reflexology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not one for lengthy author’s notes, but I feel like I need to say a few things, so bear with me. I know the subject matter caught a lot of you off guard. I got more emails about this first chapter than anything I have written and posted here. I want to say thank you for reaching out and telling me why you found this hard to read, or to ask questions, or to politely tell me that you couldn’t continue reading it. That’s okay. I’m trying to put on my big girl panties and stay true to the vision I have for this piece. But, with the reactions from last chapter, I feel like I have to come out and say this. 
> 
> Yes, my readers, Mike is ill. I’m sorry, but you won’t find out until the end of the story about that. It’s not supposed to be the focal point of the story. Chester is 71, Mike is 70, and their roles have swapped where Chester is now the caretaker. I think for some reason this route feels important to me more than any other I could have chosen. I have very deep and personal experience with that aspect of this story and I think for me it’s cathartic to write about that experience with these characters as a vehicle, simply because their relationship is so strong.
> 
> I’ll understand if you can’t keep reading. There will be references to Mike’s illness but they are brief, until the second to last chapter, which is where the explanation will come in. The first eight are planned to be mostly fluff, if that helps you prepare. Either way… you can always email me if you don’t want to leave a comment publicly. lpfan503@outlook.com
> 
> Thanks for coming back after the first chapter. I know it was shocking to a lot of you.

Over the course of the past week, the occasions when Mike was unable to differentiate between being awake and being asleep increased. He felt that same sort of heaviness in his body one associated with the natural paralysis that occurred when sleeping, the same phenomenon that kept people from sleepwalking. There were stretches of time, days, even, when he felt very coherent and alert, but he wasn’t sure how long those lasted, or even how long he went between his moments of clarity. All he knew for certain was that Chester was there. Every time Mike needed him, Chester was always right by his side.

Sometimes he had curly black hair, and sometimes it was spiked into a mohawk. Sometimes it was blonde, and other times it was shaved. Mike was never certain anymore if he was only seeing Chester in his memory or if he was real until he touched him, felt his warmth and the texture of his shaved head. He hated what was happening to him, even though he’d tried to make his peace with it months ago.

He felt the cloth swipe over his face gently, and heard Chester’s sweet voice in his ears. Mike wanted to open his eyes, but it was so hard. “Ches?” he mumbled, turning his head toward his husband’s touch.

“I’m here, love. Just trying to keep you comfortable. These cloths, they’re lavender and vanilla. They’re supposed to be soothing,” Chester explained gently as he pulled back the blanket and wiped it across Mike’s bare chest. “Tomorrow when Jessie is here, she can help me get you a bath, I know you’ll enjoy that.” It was hard to keep his voice light, but Chester managed, even as his throat tightened at the mention of the hospice nurse.

“Smells like you,” Mike whispered, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. “You’ve always smelled like lavender…”

**

“You’re sure?” Chester asked as he looked over at Mike, his eyes huge and round with breathless anticipation. “We don’t have to change anything, you know.”

Mike’s smile was wide as he rubbed the bottom of Chester’s foot with his thumb, inhaling his fresh from the shower lavender scent. “I know. I want to.”

They were sitting in their bedroom chairs, feet crossing the space between them to rest on the opposite chair, and Mike had a book on the small table between them. He glanced down at the page and adjusted the location of his thumb, pressing down harder. “This reflexology book Bourdie got us is so interesting.”

Chester giggled as he leaned his head back, his eyes lidded as he stared at Mike. “It doesn’t seem to be doing what he claims it’s supposed to… but it does feel good.”

“Well, if it makes you feel good, then it’s doing what it’s supposed to,” Mike responded cheekily. “So, anyway, about tonight…”

They’d been talking about it for a while now, and Mike was still nervous, despite all of the time and consideration that had gone into his decision. They’d been physically intimate for more than two years now, and the passion between them hadn’t waned a bit. He knew Chester was perfectly happy with how things were between them, and he was too, but the curiosity of what it felt like to have Chester make love to him was too big now to ignore. He’d had Chester’s fingers inside him, had his prostate stimulated while his husband went down on him, but they had yet to take the final plunge. “We’ve talked about it, and I’m ready. I want to. I want to feel you inside me,” Mike husked, knowing the tone of his voice would be enough to convince Chester he was serious.

A quirked eyebrow was his husband’s immediate response, followed by a slow grin. “You’re sure?” he asked again, “because once I fuck you, Mike Shinoda, you might never want to go back.”

“I have no doubt in my mind you’ll be as good as you say you are,” Mike tossed back with a grin. “And I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. You know how much I love to hold you down and make you scream my name.” He lifted an eyebrow in return, and he saw Chester lick his lips. 

“That you do,” he nodded. “So, love, I know you. You’ve already got a plan in mind, don’t you? Tell me, exactly how should I give it to you this first time?” His eyes were glittering with amusement as he gave Mike as much control over the situation as he was going to get.

Mike felt his cock twitch under his dressing robe. “That’s debatable,” he said, pressing long strokes into Chester’s arch and keeping his eyes on his lover. “There’s something to be said for making love, and then there’s also something be said for just fucking like animals. Which do you prefer?”

Chester burst into laughter as Mike turned it all back on him. “I don’t think you want me to fuck you like an animal the first time we try this.” 

“I want to fuck you like an animal,” Mike sang, wrinkling his nose and grinning at Chester. “I want to feel you from the inside.”

“Staaahhhpp!” Chester cried, gasping for air around his giggles. “You are the worst, Mike. One day I’ll fuck you good, I swear it to you. But tonight, tonight’s your first time.” Chester’s laughter subsided and his chocolate brown eyes grew a shade darker. “You’re my virgin, Mike. I want to be gentle, love.”

“Hard to believe I’m forty-three years old and we’re sitting here discussing my virginity,” Mike said, his voice low. 

**

“You took my virginity,” Mike mumbled with a faint smile as Chester wiped the cloth down Mike’s arms. 

“I did,” Chester responded lightly, looking down into Mike’s calm face, lined with age but somehow more handsome than ever. “That’s a beautiful memory between us, Mikey. I’m so happy I got to be your first… and your only.” He breathed in the scent from the wipes and thought about how his lavender scent surrounded Mike from the moment they married. How his favorite body wash became Mike’s favorite body wash. How he’d lovingly and tenderly washed Mike’s sore body in lavender scented water after the first time Mike was on bottom of their lovemaking. 

“I’m yours,” Mike said, savoring the feel of Chester’s hands on his body.

“And I’m yours,” Chester reassured him, carefully stroking over his husband’s skin. “There will never be anyone else. It’s you and me forever.”

**

Mike ran his hands up the back of Chester’s calves. His husband had climbed over into his chair, one knee planted on each side of his hips as he slowly kissed down the column of Mike’s neck. A warm hand slid inside the folds of his robe and lightly grazed one nipple, and Mike felt the rush of arousal and the heat Chester’s touch sent through his body. There was nothing like feeling Chester’s hands on him, no matter where they were petting. Every caress was an act of love, and tonight especially, Mike could feel the reverence in his husband’s fingers.

“I love you,” Mike whispered as Chester’s damp kisses crossed his collarbone. His eyes were closed, his head on the back of the chair, as he stroked Chester’s legs and forced himself not to move his wandering hands to Chester’s ass. It wasn’t about that tonight. Tonight was all about something new. Tonight, Chester was going to worship every inch of Mike’s body.

“I love you, too,” Chester murmured as he dragged his lips along Mike’s skin. He slid his hand down Mike’s side, wiggling the robe open a little more and exposing his husband’s chest. He lightly grazed his fingertips down Mike’s chest, watching the goosebumps rise all across the exposed skin. “You’re so beautiful, Mikey.” 

Mike cracked his eyes and looked at Chester with a soft smile. “You wanna move this to the bed, love?”

Chester backed off Mike’s lap and held his hand out, pulling Mike up then sliding both arms inside the robe and hugging him tightly. “Let’s go. But you gotta lose this robe.”

Nodding, Mike let Chester slip it down his arms and the robe dropped to the floor, leaving a dark blue puddle around their feet. Their lips found each other as Chester slowly backed Mike toward the bed. Mike caught Chester’s bottom lip between his teeth and pulled at it, one of his favorite things to do and something his husband usually loved, but tonight, Chester pulled away, turning his head out of this kiss with a quiet admonishment.

“Oh, Mikey, so aggressive. I thought tonight was about your… submission…” Chester whispered against the corner of Mike’s mouth, his hot breath tickling Mike’s face.

The anticipatory tingles shot down Mike’s thighs as Chester’s lips brushed his. “Mmmm,” he hummed low in his throat as Chester took hips and pulled them together. “It’s whatever you want,” he agreed, letting his hands drop away from Chester’s sides. 

“Then you better lay down.” Chester pulled back the blanket and watched Mike crawl to the center of their giant four poster bed, laying on his back with his knees splayed open. They had long been comfortable with each other’s bodies, and neither of them thought twice about modesty when they were in the bedroom together.

“How’s this?” he called, teasingly running his hand down his chest and letting it get dangerously close to his hardening cock as he watched Chester hover near the end of the bed.

“No touching,” Chester ordered softly, even as he reached down to adjust himself under his tight red briefs. “Leave that to me. I want you to let me worship your body the way you worship mine. I want you to feel the way I feel when you make love to me. I want it to consume you.” He paused, his voice dropping lower, all teasing and sultriness left behind. It was with completely sincerity that he said, “I want you to know that it’s not just sex for me, either.”

Their eyes locked onto each other and everything else in the room seemed to slide away as they both remembered the early stages of their intimate relationship, when it would have been so easy to let lust color everything, when Mike was so desperate to convey that their physical closeness was more emotional than anything else. Even after they were married it was months before Mike could let the fear of being misunderstood go, before the intensity of proving himself worthy of Chester’s love blossomed into the security they now felt with each other.

“I never thought that it was,” Mike responded, holding his hand out and motioning Chester closer. He looked up, his eyes drifting over the curly hair he’d begged Chester to grow out for him two summers ago in Maui as their hands met and their fingers laced together. “It’s never been about that, Ches.” His thumb rubbed circles on the back of Chester’s hand for a moment, until Chester climbed onto the bed and in between Mike’s thighs. 

“Tell me where to press,” Chester murmured, taking Mike foot in his hand and running his thumb down his arch toward the ball of his foot. “Tell me where it feels good, I’ve already forgotten the diagram.”

“I don’t care about the diagram,” Mike responded, his eyes sliding closed while his left foot was massaged. He felt the bed shift as Chester leaned over, then felt the dampness of Chester’s kiss in his arch before his foot was placed carefully back on the bed and his right given the same treatment. “Fuck the diagram,” he moaned, “you’re doing a good job on your own.”

From Mike’s feet, Chester ran his hand up the toned calves and spread his fingers over Mike’s bent knees, watching the rise and fall of his lover’s breaths in front of him. His eyes drank in the sight of the dark hair on Mike’s legs, all the way up to the soft, dark hair around his dick that spread sparsely to his lower stomach, creating a neat trail that ended just below his belly button. His hand went farther up Mike’s thigh as he scooted forward on his knees, moving Mike’s legs to rest over his thighs so he could appreciate the view of his husband’s balls between his legs. His scrotum was hiding the one place Chester’s fingers and dick were dying to touch…. the place his dick had never been, the place he was about to claim as his own.

Chester bent over, nuzzling his face into Mike’s stomach, dropping kisses on each inch of precious skin, grinning as Mike’s cock bumped his chin and left a sticky spot of precum behind. He was already making Mike wet, just from massaging his feet and kissing his stomach, and Chester wanted to make him orgasm harder than he ever had before. _But I have to be careful. If I hurt him, I’ll never forgive myself. And he’ll never want to do it again._

He felt Mike’s hand come up, long fingers dragging through his curls, and Chester couldn’t wait any longer to fall into the space beside to Mike. Letting Mike’s legs slide down, he planted an elbow on one side of Mike’s head and traced one finger over face, tenderly tracing his eyebrows, the slope of his perfect nose, across his cheekbones and then his lips. Mike’s expression was utterly relaxed as Chester touched him, silently claiming every bit of skin as his own before he dipped down, grazing his lips over each place his finger had been. He could feel Mike’s shallow breaths, taste his warmth though they were barely touching, hear the impatient, soft whine that was rising in the back of his throat as Chester almost but not quite kissed him. 

Soon Mike’s hands were palm up on the mattress, a picture of complete and total submission, and Chester pulled back to look at him, to continue to trace his finger over Mike’s skin as he hovered close to one side. He pulled his finger down Mike’s throat, pressed into the dip of his collarbone before he followed the trail with warm, wet kisses. The whine was slightly louder, but Chester wasn’t ready to kiss him just yet. He brushed a fingertip over one dark nipple, then chased it with his tongue, relishing the soft gasp of pleasure he heard in the form of a sharp intake of air. He reached across Mike’s body for his hand, linking their fingers again as he pulled one arm up and over Mike’s head and finally lowered his body to Mike’s, lining up every hard angle and every soft place as the heat between them sparked.

“You still nervous, love?” he asked, looking down into Mike’s dark eyes. Eyes that were heavy, darker than ink, pupils blown wide with arousal and trust.

Mike’s teeth caught his bottom lip, but he gently shook his head no. “Not with you, Ches.” His free hand came up to the back of Chester’s head, and their eyes searched each other’s before their lips finally touched, Mike holding Chester close to him and Chester keeping Mike open and vulnerable beneath him. It was a slow kiss, tongues gently moving together, sliding over and under as they both savored the warmth they created together. Mike sucked Chester’s bottom lip into his mouth and was rewarded with the press of Chester’s hips into his, their cocks bumping against each other.

When Chester finally pulled back they were both panting. He always hated having to stop for lube, but it was necessary, he reminded Mike as he crawled over to the bedside table and opened the little drawer that held their stash of lube and a few other things they liked to use at times - silk scarves and small sex toys. Then he was back on Mike, burying his face in his neck and running kisses there again, but this time more quickly, with obvious intent, laying a wet trail down Mike’s chest until he was back between his legs again. 

As soon as he popped the top of their bottle, Mike’s eyes were on him, watching intently as Chester slicked his fingers and tossed the bottle aside. “Relax, love,” Chester said, moving to hover over Mike’s lower half. “I’ll go slow. I won’t hurt you.” 

He spread Mike’s thighs as wide as he could, and a nervous, hot feeling swept over him suddenly. They’d been at this precipice many times - after the fingering, the fellatio - and Mike had changed his mind. Chester had never pressed him, but he really, really hoped that this time, this would be the time they went all the way. He wanted to show Mike how amazing it felt to be wrapped in the arms of someone who cared so deeply and so much. He did care for Mike more deeply, was more in love than he’d ever been with anyone. He wanted his chance to show that love to Mike in a way nobody ever had before.

Mike’s lips parted in a silent breath as Chester’s first finger breached him, his heart racing as his husband began to slowly open him up, one inch at a time, one gentle wiggle side to side before going deeper. He watched Mike carefully, his own arousal painful as he tried to keep the lust from taking over, Mike’s own words from years ago ringing in his ears… “it’s not just sex, Ches, it’s not… it’s not…” 

It was enough to keep him grounded, to help pace him, to be certain that Mike was relaxed and enjoying what was happening before he moved on. Another finger. Another silent breath, more careful stretching, until Chester could no longer resist the pull of Mike’s dripping cock, leaning to run his tongue up and down the shaft and lap up precum as though it were honey. 

“Ah, Ches, fuck… _fuck_.” 

Chester felt Mike squirm under his attention, felt the clench around his fingers when he finally covered Mike’s cock with his mouth, and a wave of desire washed over his body. He could feel the front of his briefs clinging to him, and he was so wet than he felt like could slide inside Mike right then, no more lubrication necessary. The thought had him moaning around Mike’s flesh, which only made Mike tighten around him more. Chester spread his fingers gently against the muscle and silently begged his husband to relax. 

He kept going, pressing his tongue against Mike’s length, over the head of his cock and into his dripping slit, as his fingers reached further inside Mike’s body, seeking. The jolt of electricity through Mike’s body, the throaty moan when he found and pressed against Mike’s prostate, sent shivers down Chester’s spine. He loved the way Mike’s hands gripped his hair, the way Mike whimpered his name, the way Mike’s thighs shook and spread beneath him. 

Chester was so in tune with Mike’s body that knew the certain way Mike tugged at his hair, the exact sound of his breathing and his low moans that signaled when his orgasm was near, and even though he loved to taste Mike’s cum and loved to suck him through his release, it wasn’t how he wanted Mike to finish tonight. With reluctance he drew back, his chin sloppy with saliva and precum, now three fingers deep and so far past the point of being ready to be inside Mike that he felt delirious with desire. Never in his life had he wanted anyone the way he wanted his husband. Mike’s cheeks were flushed, a light layer of sweat on his forehead, and his expression clearly desperate as Chester rocked back on his heels and regarded him before husking, “I want you like this. On your back where I can see your face.”

“Anything you want, Ches,” Mike whined, twisting his head to the side and pushing his bottom against Chester’s hand. “I want you so bad, I’ve never ached like this before.”

A brief smile crossed over Chester’s lips at Mike’s words, for he knew that admission was really saying something. “I’m going to move you just right,” he whispered, slowly withdrawing his hand. Mike whimpered, a small, desperate sound, as Chester guided one knee up and out, opening Mike up to him before he covered himself in a generous amount of lube and got into position, his hand ready to guide his dick home. “Relax, love,” he whispered, and he looked up to see Mike’s nod, his teeth holding tight to his bottom lip again, his head falling back, his dark hair against the white sheets, waiting.

The first push elicited a long gasp from Mike, his hands clutching at the bedsheets while Chester inched his way inside. “Oh, oh, _fuck_ ,” Mike moaned as little by little Chester filled him, his cock going deeper and deeper until he was buried completely, and Chester leaned forward to press his forehead against Mike’s. 

Mike’s eyes were tightly screwed shut, his mouth twisted in what could have been pleasure or pain, and Chester wanted nothing more than to see which it was. “Open your eyes, Mikey,” he begged, holding his body still over Mike’s, letting him adjust to the new sensations blazing through his veins like a wildfire. “Look at me.”

Mike sucked a slow inhale through his nose as he opened his eyes, and the fire within them knocked Chester’s breath away. They stayed locked in each other’s gaze until Chester moved, an experimental thrust that closed Mike’s eyes immediately, another low moan escaping him before their lips found each other. Chester put every ounce of himself into that kiss, trying to give enough love that Mike couldn’t feel the pain, his stomach twisting with desire and need as his lips slanted across Mike’s and their tongues met in a gentle caress. He could feel the moment that the tension melted away from Mike’s kiss, from his entire body, the complete surrender of every emotion and thought and worry. He felt the moment that everything else faded and all that remained was Mike and Chester, bound together by the deep and pure love they held for each other. There was no room for anything else. 

Carefully… so carefully, Chester started to move, a slow withdrawal and an even slower push back inside, and Mike managed a small gasp of his name as Chester held still again, completely buried. Their noses brushed together lightly as they joined in another kiss, breaking as Chester pulled back and then pushed inside again. Mike’s hands slid up Chester’s back and down his spine, dragging the beads of sweat forming there away. Seconds ticked by between Chester’s slow strokes, colored by gentle kisses and moments lost in each other’s eyes.

“You’re mine,” Chester whispered, ghosting his lips over Mike’s. “All mine, in a way you will never belong to anyone else. This is only for me.”

“Yes,” Mike breathed.

“Only mine.”

“Only… yours…”

**

“Relax,” Chester whispered as he lifted the sheets from Mike’s legs, folding them neatly right above his knees before he lifted one foot and gently rubbed his thumbs over the sole. “I love you.” _I love you so much, I don’t want to live without you._ He felt the emotion catch in his chest as he looked at Mike, his arms at his sides and his palms facing upward. _He looks so peaceful. They told me he’s not in pain. That he’s really just in a dream like state. I don’t want him to hurt. I ache enough for both of us._ “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he reminded Mike as he massaged his feet and calves, lifting each leg and bending it slowly a few times. 

“Ches… I love you, too.” Mike dragged in a deep breath. 

“Are you still thinking about it?” Chester asked after a while as he continued his massage. He watched Mike’s face as he said, “I’ll never forget our first time. The first time you made love to me, or the first time I made love to you. You were massaging my feet that night,” he added.

“Yes… and you were… so good to me…” Mike murmured. “After. Like you are now.” He slowly cracked his eyes and focused on Chester’s face. “Remember? The bath?” 

“Oh, Mikey… of course I remember.” Chester felt the emotional tears prick his eyes at Mike’s words. Any moment they could remember together always cut straight to his heart. 

“You’ve always cared so much,” Mike offered slowly. “I don’t deserve you.”

Chester shook his head, reaching for the blankets and pulling them down to cover Mike’s legs and feet. “You’ve definitely got that backwards.” 

**

Chester lay next to Mike, their bodies slick with all manner of bodily fluids, their fingers laced together as they struggled to slow their racing hearts and breathing. His eyes were closed, his senses bathed in Mike’s natural scent and the smell of lavender from their pre-sex showers, and a slow smile crawled over his face. They were going to need another shower.

“Do you feel okay?” he whispered, his face tucked against Mike’s neck. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Mike could almost feel his brain struggling to reorganize itself. “I think I’ll be sore later,” he admitted softly, squeezing Chester’s hand. He was keeping his body carefully still, and he didn’t want to admit he was afraid to move. He didn’t know what it would be like to get up, to walk to the bathroom, or what he might feel like hours from now, or even tomorrow. 

“A little,” Chester agreed. “But you know what will make you feel good right now? A warm bath. I’m all for post-sex baths.” He nuzzled his lips to Mike’s neck and kissed him gently. “Want me to get one ready for us?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah. I think so. We don’t use that giant bathtub you _had_ to have nearly enough.” He turned to press a kiss to Chester’s temple. “I think… I think we’re going to have a hard time deciding who’s on bottom from now on.” He felt his cheeks blush as Chester pulled away from him to look into his eyes.

“Really?” He couldn’t help the breathless sounding excitement of his response before his typical Chester swagger took over. “I told you, once I fucked you, you’d never want to go back,” he teased.

“I didn’t say that,” Mike argued lightly, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at his husband. “But we need a system or something.”

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Chester decided as he sat up and playfully tapped on Mike’s chest.

“Oh, I like that idea,” Mike responded. “Are you sure you want to do that? I can get inside your mind, Ches. I’ve learned how to be one step ahead of you. You might never get to bottom again.”

Chester’s eyes glittered with mirth. “Greedy now, aren’t we, Shinoda? Who knew it would turn out this way?”

“Maybe I should reserve judgement of the entire thing until I see how I feel tomorrow,” Mike added suddenly after he stretched experimentally. “What are you waiting for? Go get that bath started.” He playfully swatted at Chester’s ass as he scooted off the bed.

“So demanding,” Chester said over his shoulder, heading into the bathroom with a triumphant wiggle in his stride. He’d just made love to his husband, and Mike wanted more. It was the best outcome he could have hoped for.

He pushed the stopper into the bathtub and turned on the tap, checking to be certain the water wasn’t too hot. He knew water that was too hot would sting on Mike’s tender, sensitive lower half. As the bathtub started to fill he opened the cabinet under his sink, digging out a bottle of lavender bubble bath that went with the body wash he coveted. Chester squeezed the bottle under the running water and watched as the white froth grew on top of the warm water.

When he deemed it deep enough for the both of them, he grabbed towels and set them nearby, and went to retrieve Mike from the bed. His breath caught in his throat as he stepped out of the bathroom and looked at his husband flat on the bed, both arms flung over his head and his knees falling out to the sides. “Mikey? You ready?”

Mike turned his head toward Chester’s voice, his eyes cracking open sleepily. “I know I should move, but I’m exhausted.” He smiled faintly. “You might have to drag me out of the bed.”

“Trust me, you don’t want me dragging you anywhere,” Chester said wisely. “Come on. You’ll feel better after.” He held out his hands and Mike sat up, wincing as he moved. “Sorry,” Chester whispered, squeezing Mike’s hands as he helped his husband off the bed.

“No, don’t be. I’ll be fine.” Gingerly, Mike took a few steps, then a few more, which weren’t as troublesome as lifting his legs to step into the bathtub a few minutes later after he’d visited the toilet. “Fuckkk,” he hissed as he sank down into the water, bubbles squishing out from all sides of his body.

Chester climbed in behind him, immediately cupping water in his hands and smoothing it over Mike’s back. His fingers stopped to admire each small brown mole it encountered, and he continued to pour water and bubbles over his husband as they sat in silence.

After a while, Mike sighed and leaned back into Chester’s body. “That feels so nice, Ches.” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Chester hummed quietly. He slid his arms around Mike’s torso and then splayed his fingers over Mike’s chest, spreading water and bubbles all over him. When the back of Mike’s head met his shoulder and his body grew heavy against him, Chester smiled and pressed a kiss to the side of Mike’s face. “Feeling more relaxed?”

Mike nodded, then lifted his hand from the water and reached to curl it around Chester’s neck. “You were right. This is perfect.” He pulled his husband closer as he turned, his lips seeking Chester’s for a warm, slow kiss in the bathtub. The angle was awkward, and they ended up giggling as they tried and failed to get contact going. 

“I’ll make out with you all you want in the bed after,” Chester laughed, scooping bubble up and plopping them on Mike’s chest. He rubbed circles into Mike’s skin, then under the water, soothing every inch of Mike’s tired and sore body. The laughter fell away and quiet intimacy took over as he tenderly touched every bit of Mike Shinoda he could reach, eventually trading his hands for a bath puff and shower gel to clean them both with lavender bubbles. Mike was heavy against him as he scooped water over them, washing away the soap and leaving them both enveloped in the familiar and soothing scent. 

They dried off together, and Chester was quick to notice the wince that crossed Mike’s expression when he bent to dry his legs. Without a word, he dropped to his knees and ran his own towel over Mike’s skin, and when he looked up, Mike’s eyes caught his with the softest look of love he’d ever seen. Chester wrapped his towel around Mike’s waist and kissed him, their lips coming together sweetly in the dim light of their designer bathroom. 

“I love you,” Mike whispered, lightly pinching Chester’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting it a bit to lock their eyes together. The adoration was evident to Chester as Mike looked into his eyes.

“And I love you,” Chester answered, not breaking their gaze.

**

Reliving a memory was always so poignant, and Chester struggled to keep his composure as together they finished telling the story in bits and pieces. They talked until Mike was too tired, and as he had done every night for more nights that he could remember, Chester smoothed Mike’s hair back from his forehead and pressed a gentle kiss to his skin.

“Sleep, Mikey. I’m right here.”

“I love when you tell me stories, Ches,” Mike said, opening his eyes one last time that night to see his husband. 

The sight of Mike’s dark eyes still took Chester’s breath away. “We have enough stories together to fill volumes.” His fingers were still buried deep in Mike’s thick silvery hair. “Of all the love stories in the world, ours is my favorite.” 

****  
TBC


	3. Owls and Cupcakes

“Mike! Mike!” Chester burst into their studio, his hands waving frantically in the air in front of him as Mike swiveled around in his chair and used both hands to drop his headphones to rest around his neck.

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked instantly, about to stand up and grab Chester to calm him down, but Chester fell to his knees on the floor in front of Mike and dropped his face into Mike’s lap. “Ches? Love, what is it?” He reached out to stroke over Chester’s head soothingly, dismayed to feel his husband’s body shaking. “Chester. Tell me what’s wrong,” he begged, his mind racing over the possibilities. Something had happened to one of the children. To one of the guys. To Anna or Talinda.

“Mike, I- I can’t believe it.” Chester raised his tear streaked face to catch Mike’s eyes. “The agency. They called. They finally called.” He watched as realization slid over Mike’s face. “There’s a baby waiting for us, Mikey. A baby girl.”

The enormity of it hit Mike squarely in the chest as he looked down at his husband, hardly daring to believe the words he’d just heard. Words they had hoped for so much over the past three years, words that all the money they had couldn’t buy for them. They’d been queued like everyone else, put on a long list of couples hoping to adopt a newborn. It seemed that they would never get the call, but even when they almost lost faith in their reputable adoption agency, they didn’t lower themselves to other methods of obtaining the child they so desperately desired. And now, finally, the agency had called with the news they’d been waiting for.

“A girl?” Mike asked in disbelief, tipping Chester’s face up to see him better. “A baby, really, Ches? How old?” His heart was thundering in his ribcage and he could barely get a breath in, it was all so overwhelming. 

“She’s two days old, Mikey. Still in the hospital in Shanghai. The parents just signed over their rights but we can go now, we can hold her! She’ll be ours in two weeks, I can’t believe it!” Chester burst into a fresh round of tears and Mike couldn’t stop himself from joining him.

Tossing his headphone onto the desk, Mike pushed the chair back and fell on his knees with Chester in front of him, holding him close as they cried into each other’s necks. They were going to raise a child together. Their child. It didn’t matter that their mid-forties had already crept up on them, another thing that had made them less than desirable as adoptees in the agencies mind. They were flying to China, tomorrow, to meet their baby girl. The one and only child they would have with the surname Bennington-Shinoda.

Chester’s damp cheek met Mike’s as he leaned back to take his lips in a tender kiss. 

**

“Who was that, Ches?” Mike mumbled, turning his face toward Chester. “On the phone?”

“Hana,” Chester answered softly, thinking about the day they’d gotten the call she was waiting for them. “Letting me know she’s on her way to the airport.” 

There was a long moment of silence before Mike asked, “today?” 

“Yes, love.” Chester leaned forward in the plush chair he was sitting in to stroke his hand down Mike’s arm. 

Mike turned his head as he feebly lifted his free hand to find Chester’s. Chester knew exactly what his husband wanted, and linked their fingers together, gently squeezing Mike’s hand. Their wedding rings rubbed together with a soft _clink._ “I wish she didn’t have to fly alone.” 

“Me, too. She hates flying alone.” Chester leaned over and kissed Mike’s forehead.

“She got that from you.” Mike managed a weak smile as his eyes met Chester’s. 

Chester nodded with a wry smile. “She was like that at birth. She’s never been a fan of flying.” He was lost in Mike’s dark eyes, eyes that were remembering, eyes that were shining with awareness in the moment.

Slowly, Mike rubbed his thumb over the side of Chester’s hand. It wasn’t exactly the way he’d always done it, but he knew that Chester would understand what he was trying to do. “But it’s one of the ways she’s just like you.” 

He remembered the fourteen hour flight, the way Chester clung to his hand and slept fitfully as they crossed the ocean separating their daughter’s birthplace and her eventual home. 

**

“Ches? We’re about to land. Wake up, love.” Mike gently ran his hand down Chester’s arm, succeeding in rousing him with little effort.

“Sorry. I know I should have kept you company.” Chester pressed the button on his seat to lift it back into a more seated position. “I bet you’ve done nothing but worry, Mikey.” He rubbed at his eyes before he reached over to the center console between their seats for his glasses. 

“You know me too well sometimes,” Mike murmured, looking over the thoughts he’d been writing down in his sketchbook while Chester was asleep. 

“So what’s the main worry of the day?” Chester asked. “Other than getting to the hotel and then to the hospital. Looks like you’ve got a list.” He peered over at Mike’s neat blocky handwriting as his husband sighed.

The main concern was the rest of the tour. Their last tour. “You know we go back out on tour in six weeks. I guess I just never thought this would happen now. We can’t postpone, this is it. If we postpone, people will think we aren’t going to see the commitment through.” Mike scrubbed his right hand over his face before he looked at Chester. “And honestly, if we put it off, would we go back? I know you’re exhausted, Ches. I know your voice is tired. Even if the rest of us wanted to go on, I know you’re ready to stop.” 

Mike swallowed back the emotions he felt every time the subject came up lately. They had always, always worked like that, the six of them. It only took one negative vote on anything - a song, album art, a tour date, even something as small as one word in a lyric - and whatever that thing was, it was scrapped. Deep down Mike felt that if Chester hadn’t spoken up first, hadn’t told the band he was physically finished, that they’d be planning another album. _It’s for the best, now that we’re going to have a baby. It’s all working out the way it’s supposed to. Even if it’s a hard pill to swallow for me._

“I’m afraid I’ll completely ruin my voice if we go any longer, Mike. I’m sorry-”

“This isn’t about that,” Mike interrupted firmly. “You know I’m behind whatever you want, Chester. The only thing we need to figure out is, how are we going to take the baby with us?”

“With us?” Chester repeated incredulously. “On tour?” None of them had ever taken any of their children on tour for an extended period of time. There had been weeks here and there, but always with their mothers along and able to provide care. 

“Do you want to be away from her for months? And who would we leave her with, if both of us are away from home? Hear me out, Ches,” Mike said as the captain announced they were beginning their final descent into Shanghai. “We can bring someone with us to stay with the baby at night while we do soundcheck and the show. She can come to meet and greets if the fans aren’t crazy. And we can get those tiny baby noise cancelling headphones for her to wear. She’ll look like Brad.” 

They grinned at each other. “Don’t wish that on our baby,” Chester laughed, shaking his head. “Mikey, if you think this is the best way, then I’m behind you. Lord knows you’ve had hours to sit here and plan it out.” He reached for Mike’s hand as he repeated words Mike had said minutes earlier. 

Mike rubbed the back of Chester’s hand with his thumb, small circles as he looked down at his notes. “Just think about everything we’ve missed with the others, Ches. All the regrets you have, that I have… we can do everything right with our baby. It won’t make up for what we lost with our kids, but maybe we can get this one right. Maybe we can do all the right things for at least one of our kids.”

Chester watched the concern cross Mike’s features and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Mikey,” he whispered, “you’ve got to let go of the guilt. We’ve been talking about this since Otis was born. Hell, since Jaime. We all made the choice way back to be committed to the band, Mike. I think we’ve done a hell of a job being dads while we did that.” He caught Mike’s lips as he turned, and he felt Mike suck lightly on his bottom lip for a moment before their tongues met with warmth and tenderness. They sank into each other the way they always did, oblivious to the world around them even as the flight attendants picked up the last round of trash from the surrounding passengers and urged everyone to put their tray tables seat backs in the upright and locked position. 

“I just want everything to be perfect with this one, Ches,” Mike whispered back as their lips parted, lifting his free hand and lightly brushing the backs of his fingers down Chester’s cheek, reveling in his husband for a moment. “I want this child to have every good piece of us. I want her to have two parents who adore each other, who can show her what soulmates look like. I want to be the best team we can be for this little girl.”

“Nothing will ever be perfect… but the way you and I love each other, that’s about as close as anything can be.” Chester pulled back, his eyes sparkling, as the flight attendant stopped on their aisle and quietly took the two empty water bottles off Mike’s tray. “We’re just hours away from her. Once this plane lands, all that’s between us and our daughter is a quick shopping spree and the ride from the hotel to the hospital.”

“I can’t believe she’s coming home with us tonight,” Mike said, settling back into the seat but not letting go of Chester’s hand. “I can’t believe this is finally happening.” 

“I still can’t believe you’re mine,” Chester murmured. “This little girl is getting the best Papa in the world.”

**

Mike could remember the blitz through the baby store, the small sleeper bassinet that would be left behind and the car seat that would take their daughter back across the world. He could picture the package of tiny diapers and the wipes that smelled of baby powder, the newborn sized onesies and the package of tiny socks. He remembered the pink knit hat and the soft pink blanket with owls they picked out together to bring their daughter back to the hotel in, all comfortable and warm. 

He remembered the breathless first moment he looked into Hana’s gray eyes, held her fragile five pounds carefully in his arms, the adoring wonder on Chester’s face as they checked over her ten perfect fingers and toes together. He remembered how she cried so much their first night in the hotel until Chester swaddled her and rocked her, and they harmonized lullabies over her sleepy head. He remembered her soft black hair and the way she held tight to his finger, and how excruciating the wait for the court date was, hoping every night that all of the paperwork would come through in time and they would be permitted to leave for L.A. with her as planned.

“She’s coming, love?” Mike asked sleepily, slowly lifting his hand to rub his eyes. The memories of baby Hana in Shanghai seemed so far away as he called for Chester from the comfort of their bed, not the luxury suite in a hotel long ago.

The movement made Chester’s heart jump. _Thinking about seeing her is giving him a reason to fight more. He’s not giving up yet. He’s so damn stubborn._ “She’ll be here this afternoon. It’s a long flight from Connecticut,” Chester reminded his husband gently. “Remember? She’s been at Yale two semesters, now.” He leaned forward in his chair to see Mike’s face closer. 

His eyes were still closed, but the pride Mike always felt when they talked about their daughter brought a faint smile to his face. “Yes. I remember. She’s always been so smart, Ches.”

“Well, she’s your daughter. _Our_ daughter,” Chester corrected, “but she’s so much like you, Mike. So smart and so talented.”

**

Chester leaned against the door frame, watching Mike and Hana at the piano. She was all dolled up, Chester-style, her bright red dress and matching shoes adorable, her black hair in a ponytail with a matching red bow. Mike’s tie exactly matched Hana’s dress, and Chester loved the way he looked in a black suit. From across the room, nobody would ever guess the father and daughter weren’t related by blood with their straight black hair, perfect posture, and determined expressions.

“Papa, let’s do it again! I want it to be perfect for the recital.” Hana turned her big brown eyes to Mike, and Chester smiled from his vantage point behind them. From the moment they brought Hana home, Mike had never once said no to that look.

“Okay, sweetheart, we can do it again. Are you ready?” Mike’s hands were over the keys, waiting for his daughter’s hands to take their place next to his for the father-daughter duet they would be performing at her first recital. 

Chester watched the way her feet swung in time under the piano bench, her three-year-old legs not coming close to touching the floor yet. Her first recital was a huge success, Mike beaming with pride as he handed her a bouquet of white lilies afterward. Chester had scooped her up and tossed her over his head, her dress flying and her tiny shrieks of laughter filling his heart with joy as Mike looked on, laughing along in that way he held special just for Chester. It was how recitals ended for years, until Haha was too big to be tossed in the air, and Chester settled for wrapping her in bear hugs instead. 

“Daddy, stop, you’re wrinkling my dress!” Hana complained with a giggle as Chester danced her from side to side. 

“But what else can I do when my Hana-bear is too big to throw into the air?” Chester asked, twirling his ten year old in a circle. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“We made you cupcakes,” Mike added, winking at Chester. “Celebration cupcakes, with sprinkles.” He waited for Chester to spin their daughter his way before he gave her the lilies she loved and kissed her on top of the head. “You worked so hard on that Concerto, it really showed.”

“Mrs. England says I will be able to learn more movements for my college auditions eventually. Papa, did you play piano in college?” Hana buried her face in the flowers and smelled them as they walked out of the recital hall together.

“Sweetheart, you know I went to art school,” Mike said before Hana interrupted him. 

“But you’re so good at piano. And I know you used to play in your band with Daddy. I’ve seen the videos,” she said proudly. “If you went to art school, how did you end up doing music?”

Mike’s eyes met Chester’s over Hana’s head. They’d only told her the story of Linkin Park a million times, ever since she was little and asked about the words on Daddy’s back when they were swimming. Chester just smiled, his eyes on Mike.

“Papa always loved music, just like you,” Chester answered for him. “Not everyone gets lucky enough to make one of their passions their life’s work. Papa got to do both. He’s a kick ass artist and musician.”

“Ches… language,” Mike admonished half-heartedly. He’d never been able to cure Chester’s cursing mouth around any of the children, though Hana was enough of a rule follower not to curse, at least in front of them. “I just got lucky, sweetheart. A lot of hard work and a lot of luck when into Daddy and Papa meeting each other.”

“And getting married and having me!” she exclaimed, beaming as she looked up at both men, though they were lost in each other’s eyes.

“You were the luckiest part,” Chester agreed as Hana shifted her flowers into her right hand and took Chester’s with her left. Mike reached for the flowers and grabbed her right hand, and they walked together to the car to go home, where cupcakes awaited.

**

“I made cupcakes,” Chester said later as he sat on the edge of the bed and petted his hand down Mike’s chest. “Hana’s favorites. The confetti cupcakes with sprinkles.” The windows were open again, fresh air and light coming through the sheer curtains, and when Mike didn’t respond, Chester simply sat and listened to him breathe. In, and out, methodically. Slowly. He breathed in the warm vanilla cake scented air and wondered if Mike could smell it too.

_They’re all coming. Hana. Otis, the girls. Jaime said he and Karlie will be here tomorrow, and I hope everyone else makes it in time. The guys. I know they want to say their goodbyes._

Chester looked out the window at the back garden. They’d never moved from Mike’s house, unable to leave behind their studio and his art room. All of the memories. He didn’t know what would become of it all after they were gone, if Jaime or Otis would want it. Jaime was producing and Otis was selling out art shows, and both of them had enough trust money to do whatever they wanted. _All of them do. They’ve never wanted for anything._

He and Mike had carefully arranged everything as soon as they got over the initial shock of Mike being sick, but the one thing that Chester still didn’t know was what would become of their home. There was a hierarchy, and Jaime got first dibs. It had been years since either Mike or Chester had referred to any of the children as _mine_ or _yours._ They were all simply _theirs_ , and the house was the only thing that wasn’t evenly divided amongst the eleven of them. It would be offered in the order of birth, until someone wanted it, or they all decided to sell it. Chester hoped one of their kids would want it, but it was hard to tell. Everyone but Jaime and Otis lived outside of the area.

Chester let his hand rest on Mike’s stomach, and he watched it rise and fall with Mike’s breaths before he decided to lay with him for a nap. Hana was due in a few hours. It was enough time for him to close his weary eyes and ignore the reality of everything before she got there. It was enough time for him to remember how things were before the kids were all old enough to leave home.

**

“Chester, she’s only sixteen,” Mike fussed as they watched Hana turn the car down the circle drive, happily heading over to a girlfriend’s house alone for the first time since acquiring her driver’s license. 

Chester grinned as he looked at Mike’s distraught face. He loved the salt and pepper whiskers and the silver strands that randomly showed in his husband’s hair. Mike had held on to his black hair longer than anyone had a right to once they hit sixty. “And we’ve been through this how many times, Mikey? How many kids have we taught to drive? You just can’t admit our baby is grown up.”

“Stop!” Mike cried, covering his ears with his hands. “You’re crushing my heart!” 

Chester wrapped his arms around Mike’s stomach from behind, pressing his face into Mike’s shoulder. “You’re so dramatic when it comes to Hana. She’s fine, Mike. I think you’re just out of practice,” Chester decided. “It’s been twelve years since Josie and the twins started driving. You’ve forgotten what it’s like.”

Mike nodded, dropping his hands to cover Chester’s. “I can’t believe she’s sixteen already, Ches. Otis is thirty-two and-”

“Don’t even,” Chester interrupted. “Jaime turns forty-three this year, Mike. He’s the age right now that I was when you and I got married.”

Mike twisted around in Chester’s grip and caught his lover’s face in both hands. “It seems impossible, doesn’t it? We’ve been married twenty years already. Our marriage will be old enough to drink this year,” he joked, chuckling before his eyes went serious again. “I just don’t know where it’s all gone. It seems like every time I blink, another year has gone by… that we’ve added another grandchild, or Hana is getting ready to graduate. I could live forever, and there would never be enough time to spend with you. If I could go back and do it all over again, Chester, I would have married you first. All that time we missed…”

Chester’s eyes fluttered closed under the intensity of Mike’s stare. “I know,” he whispered, just before he felt Mike’s lips on his own. It didn’t matter how many times they’d kissed in the last twenty years, every kiss felt as new and exciting as the first. Even if what passed as intimacy had changed as they moved into their sixties, Mike’s kisses were no less passionate than they had been when Chester was forty-one and Mike was forty. He could only imagine what stories Mike’s kisses would have told if he’d experienced them at twenty-three. He felt Mike’s hands slip down his face and take him by the hips, and he felt them both smile out of the kiss.

“Remember how that used to end?” Mike husked, nuzzling his nose to Chester’s ear.

“Always,” Chester responded, pulling Mike close. “I miss those days we couldn’t get enough of each other.”

“I still can’t get enough of you,” Mike responded. “If we could trade in these bodies for younger models, I’d show you right now.” His distress over Hana driving was forgotten in the hunger he always felt for his husband.

Chester giggled, pulling back to look into Mike’s eyes again. “We can always go upstairs and see how a couple of blow jobs would be received by these old bodies,” he suggested. “I’m far from too old for a little playtime, Mikey.”

Mike didn’t wait to be asked twice. With Hana gone for a few hours, it was the perfect opportunity to savor each other’s bodies. Time alone was something they both looked forward to still, and time was something they needed when it came to intimacy these days. Everything seemed to just _take more time_ , time that Mike joked they rarely had enough of when it came to pleasuring each other. 

The afternoon was spent with the master bedroom windows wide open, curtains billowing in the breeze, each taking turns between each other’s legs, alternating between giggling and moaning. When they were both satisfied they lay naked across the bed, letting the air caress their skin, drifting in and out of contented sleep before Mike roused Chester by swiping his thumb back and forth over his bottom lip, the way he’d always wished to but had never been able to do when Chester had his labret.

Chester opened his eyes to the worshipful gaze of his husband’s deep brown eyes, a look that to this day stole his breath away. “We should take a shower together before she gets back,” Chester mumbled, his body sleepy and sated. 

“Right,” Mike whispered, “if you think you can behave in the shower,” he added, a slow grin spreading over his face.

**

Chester woke up when the front bell rang, the dream of showering with Mike and everything that had come with that day dissipating quickly as he reached for his glasses. He glanced at Mike, still soundly sleeping, before shoving his feet into his slippers to go downstairs. He hadn’t meant to sleep for so long. It was a tell-tale sign of the exhaustion he was trying to pretend he didn’t feel.

Before he could make it to the ground floor, their housekeeper had let Hana in, taking her suitcase and carryon bag from her and reminding her to leave her shoes at the door. He let himself be wrapped in her hug, holding her slender frame close as she squeezed him tightly. It had been weeks since she’d been home.

They took a few minutes to exchange I love yous, discuss the flight, and her ride to the house. Chester asked how she was feeling, and made sure she could cope with seeing her father before they started for the stairs. Chester led the way to the second floor where Hana had lived out her entire childhood, running between her room and the studios. He held his daughter’s hand as they stepped into the master bedroom. Mike was exactly as he had left him, breathing slowly in and out, the breeze from the windows just enough to billow the curtains but not move his hair. Chester could feel the tremble in her hand even though he’d prepared her for Mike’s condition. 

“Oh, Daddy… it’s just not fair,” Hana whispered from across the room, her eyes on her father’s sleeping form.

“No, it’s not, sweetheart. Nothing about this is fair. Not one thing.” Chester kept his voice low. The last thing he wanted was for Mike to hear the regret in his voice. Not when Chester constantly reassured him that there was nothing to regret about their life together. The only regret Chester had was that they didn’t have another thirty years. To only have fifty with his other half seemed cruel.

“You don’t look like you’re eating enough,” Hana said suddenly, turning her sharp eye on Chester. “You’re wearing yourself out taking care of him, aren’t you?”

Chester sighed, his eyes skipping away from her guiltily. “I promised him forever, Hana. I’m going to be by his side for every second we have left together in this life.” Chester dismissed her worries without answering her. His comfort, his health, wasn’t what he was worried about. All that mattered was Mike.

“Daddy…” Hana’s soft voice was pleading. 

“Come on. He’ll wake up when he knows it’s you, that you’re here. I know he will.” Chester tugged on Hana’s hand, pulling her along with him to the side of the bed and motioning for her to sit in the chair he’d been occupying for days now.

Mike could hear the whispers around him, and the musical female voice of his youngest daughter as her hand slid into his. He wanted to see her, really see her, not just the images he had in his mind of her pale face, her straight black hair and lighter brown eyes that reminded him of Chester’s. She was the baby - their baby - so much younger than the others, and it broke his heart that he wasn’t going to see her finish her doctorate or get married, if she chose to do so someday. Hana was only twenty-four, still a child in his mind, the baby that he and Chester had brought home from China when she was just two weeks old. The youngest child of eleven they’d raised and loved together.

“Hana?” he called, trying to squeeze her hand.

“Papa, I’m right here,” she answered, a shake in her voice before she cleared it and tried again. “It’s me, Papa. Hana Grace.”

“I know, baby girl,” Mike said softly, “I’ve been missing you.” He opened his eyes to see her. He skimmed his gaze over her soft white blouse tucked into a smart gray wool skirt, her black knee high boots, her tasteful silver and black jewelry. “Come here,” he said, tugging on her hand.

Hana stood up and sat on the edge of the bed. “Is this okay, Papa?”

Chester couldn’t help but think that her voice sounded like that of a small child again. He knew she was upset and trying hard not to show it. “It’s fine, sweetheart. Mike,” he said, raising his voice, “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, Ches,” Mike agreed, his eyes never leaving Hana’s face. “Hana, tell me about school.” His words were slow but clear. “Tell me everything.” His eyes felt so heavy, but he struggled to keep them open to see her.

“Papa, just rest. Don’t try to stay awake for me.” Hana sighed and looked toward the door where Chester had left from before she looked back down at her father. “School is good. I’ve got my little freshman Chemistry class, and it’s going well. I think I’m pretty good at being a T.A. by now.” She thought about how she’d worked as a teaching assistant all the way through her masters, realizing it was her seventh semester to do so. “Even teaching the class, I’m on track to finish my dissertation next fall.” She paused as Mike squeezed her hand. “I’m working hard, Papa, and I have keys to the music building to go practice. I’m keeping up with my music, too.” 

Mike opened his eyes to look at his daughter again. “I’m proud of you,” he said. He could feel the tears pricking in the corners of his eyes and closed them again. “I hope you know. How much. And how much… I love you.”

Hana nodded, her dangling earrings bouncing against her neck. “I love you, too, Papa. You’re the best Papa ever.” She took a deep breath, then leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’m the luckiest girl, that you picked me.”

“We wanted you. Hoped for you for so long,” Mike whispered. “You were perfect.” He stopped to catch his breath before he continued, “you’ll always be my baby girl.”

Blinking back her own tears, Hana put her arms around Mike, hugging him as best as she could as he lay in the bed. She was surprised when she felt his hand pat her on the back of the head, and she knew how much effort it was taking him to show the affection he’d showered on her for years. “Thank you for everything you’ve taught me,” Hana choked out, no longer able to hold back her tears.

When Chester made it back upstairs with their cupcakes, Hana was holding a wad of balled up tissues in one hand, and Mike’s hand in the other. “I’ve got your favorite, sweetheart.” He held up the plate with three confetti cupcakes on it and watched his daughters face break into a smile. “Oh, Daddy, you’d think I was ten again.”

“Well, we’ve always celebrated with cupcakes. And I want this to be a celebration of the past twenty-four years. No sadness. I don’t want your last thoughts of time you spent with Papa to be sadness.” He set the plate on the bedside table and sat in the chair Hana had abandoned. “Mikey? I’ve got cupcakes for Hana,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Do you want a taste?”

Even though he wasn’t hungry at all, Mike nodded his head. “Just frosting, Ches,” he said. “Hana can have my cupcake.”

“Okay,” Chester nodded, picking up one cupcake and promptly sticking his finger into the frosting. “Open up.” He watched as Mike made the effort to open his mouth, and he placed his finger against MIke’s tongue, elated when the frosting was carefully licked clean.

“So good, Ches,” Mike mumbled. “You’re the best cupcake maker.”

Chester smiled, scooping another bit of frosting on his finger even though he knew Mike was only trying for Hana’s sake. “Here, love, have another bit,” he coaxed, and Mike took another taste as Hana unwrapped her cupcake.

“Thanks, Daddy.” She smiled looking down at her cupcake before she took a bite, tasting her childhood in the sweetness of the frosting she was watching Chester feed Mike. She’d grown up knowing they were older than most of her friend’s parents, but it had never seemed to matter… not until Mike got sick. Now the only thing that mattered was that she was saying goodbye to one parent, and her intuition told her that one could not live long without the other. Even as a child she realized her parents were not only different in age, but in their utter and complete devotion to each other. She hadn’t seen it matched in any other couple she knew, and had yet to find someone who looked at her they way they looked at each other.

She saw that look now as Chester set Mike’s cupcake aside and leaned over to place a soft kiss to his lips, and her heart ached to think how little time they had left with each other. Even the sweetness of the frosting couldn’t erase the sadness that washed over her, but she took the bite anyway, clinging to the memories Chester’s sweet vanilla frosting brought to her mind.

****  
TBC


	4. Coffee and Sunsets

“Ches?” 

Mike’s voice was hardly a whisper, and Chester looked up from the book he was reading next to the bed in surprise. Mike had been sleeping all afternoon, and the sun was just starting to go down. The light was starting to change, the way did before subsiding into twilight, turning suddenly brighter and more orange. There was a gentle breeze and the curtains billowed softly, like angels wings at the windows, and Chester could see Mike’s eyes on them as they moved.

“What is it, Mikey?” he asked softly, setting the book aside and standing up to come closer to his husband. “You’ve been sleeping a lot today. How are you feeling, love?” He reached out and brushed Mike’s hair back from his forehead.

“Sleepy. Confused. Thirsty,” Mike answered slowly. His eyes closed under Chester’s touch and he was quiet, his breaths slow and even.

“I’ll get you some water,” Chester said, letting his fingers slip down Mike’s cheek. He reached for the pitcher by the bed and poured some into the cup he had ready, the one with a straw. “You’ll have to sit up a little. You think you can?” he asked, glancing back at Mike’s trusting eyes. 

“If you help me.” 

With Chester’s arm under his shoulders for support, Mike managed to get himself up against the pillow Chester had shoved between his back and the headboard. Chester smoothed the blankets over Mike’s chest and then ran his fingers through Mike’s hair again. “You want anything to eat? I can get Rosa to make some soup for you, or anything you want. You haven’t eaten much…” He let his words trail off as Mike pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“I’m not hungry,” he stated, opening his mouth for the straw Chester was placing between his lips. He took a few sips before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. “You know what I want?” he finally said as Chester down sat next to him, petting over the blankets and then Mike’s arms and hands.

“What’s that?” Chester asked. He’d get Mike anything he wanted, anything at all. 

“Coffee,” Mike said, opening his eyes with the tiniest smile. “I want you to make me coffee.”

“Well, I can do that.” Chester smiled. He’d always been the coffee maker of the two of them. He took the process very seriously, and Mike had easily relinquished all responsibility for coffee once they’d married. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” He couldn’t keep the worry from his voice as he looked at Mike. In his eyes, Mike was young, he was healthy, and he was beautiful. He didn’t let himself think about how gradually Mike had started eating less and less, and how in the past two days he’d really only been taking liquids. It was hard to be aware of the timeline they were working on, with Mike’s lack of appetite hinting at how much time they had left. 

The hours were blurring together as those closest to Mike made their arrivals, said their goodbyes. Chester would never admit how emotionally and physically exhausting the past few days had been, but he could see the sympathy in the eyes of everyone who had been to the house. He watched the different ways their children reacted, some barely able to look at Mike, others clinging to his hands with tearful eyes, and still others talking as calmly as Chester talked these days. 

He supposed the only good thing about an illness like Mike’s was that there _was_ time to say goodbye. All of the children had made it back to L.A. except for Otis, and they were expecting him tomorrow. Part of him felt bad that he’d sent them all to stay in the Omni instead of at the house, but it was just too much, for him and for Mike. Mike needed rest. Chester knew he was being selfish, but he wanted these last moments for himself. When it came down to the fundamental of it all, he’d chosen Mike. None of the children had a choice when it came to who their parents were, and though those relationships were strong, none of them held a candle to the bond he and Mike shared.

“Just coffee, love,” Mike said, settling back into the pillows. “I’ll wait for you right here,” he added, as though everything were fine, as though he had a choice.

Chester assessed Mike’s breathing, steady in and out, and squeezed his hand before he slid off the bed. “I’ll be right back. Don’t you go anywhere,” he said lightly, though his own breath caught in his throat. _Don’t leave me while I’m downstairs, Mikey. Don’t go without me by your side._

**

“Mmmm, Ches, that smells amazing.” Mike slid his arms around Chester’s waist from behind, aligning their hips and dropping his head to spread kisses over the back of his husband’s neck. He heard a soft chuckle, and Mike’s face broke into a smile. “What?” he asked lazily, spreading his fingers open wide and caressing the hard muscles of Chester’s stomach under his thin gray t-shirt.

“You, that tickles,” Chester giggled breathlessly as he poured boiling water from the kettle onto the coffee grounds, carefully keeping the water from splashing on to his hands. 

Mike deliberately dragged his facial hair over Chester’s skin, just to tease him a little bit more. “This? This is what tickles?” He laughed as Chester squirmed in his hands, loving how he didn’t pull away.

Chester set the kettle down and turned around, throwing his arms around Mike’s neck, smiling into his kiss as he connected their lips. Years of kissing Mike hadn’t taken the sweetness and joy from their first kiss of the morning. It never took much for that innocent good morning kiss to change into something more passionate, and even the smell of fresh coffee wasn’t enough to pull them apart. They kissed standing in the Kauai kitchen until Mike finally backed Chester against the counter. Without a word, Chester hopped up onto the countertop and hooked his legs around Mike. “You woke up in a mood this morning, Mikey,” he mumbled between pecks, kissing over every bit of Mike’s neck he could reach.

“It’s our last morning alone, you know. Before everyone else gets here.” Mike breathed deeply, the smell of Chester and coffee mixing in the air around them. “I can’t help it. You know I just want to fuck you all day,” he growled playfully, a hopeful glitter in his eyes. 

“Coming here is always like the first time. You remember the first time… you were insatiable.” Chester’s hands found their way inside the plush white robe Mike was wearing, spreading it open. “God, you’re warm,” he breathed, leaning forward again to kiss the newly bared skin between Mike’s nipples.

One of Mike’s hands hooked onto the edge of the counter for balance, and the other found its way into Chester’s hair. “That’s why we always come back here. It always reminds us of the first time. That summer was so crazy.” He let Chester slide the shoulders of the robe off and down his arms, let his kisses trail all across his skin, before he leaned to kiss the top of Chester’s head. “We should drink the coffee you made before it gets cold,” he husked, though his mind thinking of doing just about anything other than drinking coffee. 

With a sigh, Chester sat back. “I can’t help it. I’m always ready for you,” he mumbled, “coffee can wait.” 

Mike raised an eyebrow playfully. “You’re giving up coffee for me? The nectar of life? You feeling okay?” He held his palm up to Chester’s forehead as though he were checking for a fever, then felt behind his ear. “You do seem a little warm…” 

“Mike Shinoda always comes first.” Chester smiled and scratched his fingernails lightly over Mike’s stomach. “The order is Mike Shinoda, coffee, everything else.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Mike laughed, hooking his hands around Chester’s ass and pulling him off the counter. “I don’t think we’ll make it upstairs,” he added, taking a light nibble at Chester’s neck as he turned to leave the kitchen with his husband’s legs latched around his waist and arms around his neck.

“Just fuck me on the couch, Mikey,” Chester said breathlessly, leaning his head back. “There’s nobody here but us.”

**

Chester watched the dark liquid drip through the filter and into the carafe underneath. It was the color of Mike’s eyes when they made love - so dark brown they were almost black. There were hundreds of memories stored away in his mind, intimate times they’d spent together, and those memories always came back to Mike’s eyes. The depth of love Chester had always been able to see in them. The tenderness, the admiration, the complete devotion and worship. It had never been that way with anyone else. 

He inhaled deeply as he transferred coffee into Mike’s favorite mug and then his own, preparing to take them back upstairs. The two of them had shared coffee in every room of this house. In countless hotel rooms, in cities and countries all over the world. It was something they loved together, and Chester had the fleeting thought that Mike was asking for it only for that reason. _Our last coffee together. He knows exactly what he’s asking for… but I shouldn’t think like that. I shouldn’t. We’re not already at the end. We can’t be._

It took a minute of deep breathing before Chester calmed his thoughts enough to glance at the clock on the wall. It was far too late to be drinking coffee, but he had never been able to say no to Mike. He took both mugs and carefully climbed the stairs to their bedroom. Mike was exactly as he’d left him, his upper half slightly elevated with pillows. 

“I’m back,” Chester said softly, setting both mugs on the bedside table and scooting his chair closer. The little bubble of anxiety he always felt when he left Mike’s side, even for just minutes, dissolved as Mike opened his eyes. “Hey,” Chester cooed with a soft smile.

“I smell it,” Mike said, turning his head to see the coffee next to him. “Can you… will you help me?” He turned his eyes back to Chester, who felt his heart melt instantly.

“Of course. It’s too hot right now, though.” Chester reached for Mike’s hand, yearning for the physical connection. It didn’t shock him that Mike instantly started to rub his thumb over the back of his hand, the familiar circles he’d always drawn there settling Chester’s anxiety. Mike had always thought more about Chester than himself. 

“I was thinking about the beach house while you were gone,” Mike said, his eyes holding Chester’s.

“No shit, I was, too.” The grin felt a mile wide on Chester’s face as Mike spoke. His favorite part of any day lately was when Mike brought up things they hadn’t thought about in a while, or when Mike shared little bits of memories he held close to his heart of their life together. 

“Having the kids here, the past few days, made me think about those summers. Those family vacations we always wanted.” Mike cleared his throat and paused, gathering strength to go on. “My mind, it’s clearer today, Ches. I can picture those summers.”

Chester nodded, elated that Mike was so coherent. “You’re so pure, Mikey. Thinking about the family, and I was down there in our kitchen remembering a time I made you coffee and you ended up bending me over the back of the couch in the living room.” 

The sound of Mike’s soft chuckle was music to Chester’s ears. “Oh, I thought about that, too. That was a good day.”

“They were all good days,” Chester agreed, reaching for his mug.

**

“Fuck, Ches… you wore me out,” Mike gasped as they both slid to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

Chester turned instantly and tackled Mike to the ground, his palms hitting the floor on either side of Mike’s head as his husband’s back hit the floor. “Don’t tell me we’re getting too old for this,” he said, staring down into Mike’s eyes. “Don’t you even act like you won’t want to go again later.”

Mike chuckled. “What I _want_ and what I’m capable of might be two different things. Though being here, getting some rest from the kids and everything, I feel younger already.” Mike reached up and ran his hand over Chester’s head. “We’ve got to enjoy the rest of the day. We’ll be outnumbered tomorrow.”

“And it’s always hard to find time for this with Anna and Talinda around,” Chester said, sliding off Mike and taking up a similar pose next to him. “I never would have thought we’d be able to do this, that they’d bring the kids out here and stay. I never thought I’d want everyone here all together, but I love it.” In Chester’s mind, the more family in one place, the better. “It’s kind of mind blowing when you think about it. I wish… I wish Sam would let Dra come.” He sighed, the thought taking the edge off the post-sex euphoria he was feeling.

Mike reached over and caught Chester’s hand, circling his thumb over Chester’s palm. “I know. Maybe next year, when he’s eighteen, he can come out on his own.” Mike sighed, then turned on his side to see Chester’s face. “At least you’ve got one ex that gets it. It’s good of Tal and Maro to keep Hana for us a few days. I was nervous about leaving her with someone else, but you were so right. This get-away has been good for the soul.”

They lay together, Mike tenderly stroking Chester’s hand as their pulses calmed and breathing slowed. “It really has,” Chester agreed after a few minutes. “I love our big family, but I love being with you more. I know that’s messed up. But it’s true. If I could only choose one person to spend the rest of my days with, it would be you.”

Mike closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “Me, too, Ches. I love you, you know.” He felt Chester move, and turned his head, cracking open his eyes to see his lover watching him. He could see his soul reflected in Chester’s eyes, and he never wanted to look away. “We promised each other forever. Do you ever think about that? Forever? Do you wonder what it will be like in the afterlife?”

Chester squeezed Mike’s hand. “I don’t worry about it. I know you’ll be there, wherever we are. We were meant to be together, Mike.”

Mike inched closer, kissing Chester’s forehead. “I know that whatever the afterlife is, I wouldn’t want it without you.” He smiled and they fell silent again, each lost in thoughts of their commitment to each other transcending their time on earth. It was peaceful, the thought of always being together, the promises they’d made. It was reassuring. 

“Hey, love, do you think that coffee will reheat?” Mike asked playfully as he pulled himself from daydreams of their future.

“Reheat?” Chester sat up, scandalized. “We are _not_ drinking reheated coffee. I’ll make us new coffee,” he decided instantly, pulling on Mike’s hand to get him to sit up. “Come on, let’s have naked day,” he suggested with a laugh, the serious atmosphere dissipating. He was delighted when Mike agreed. They were years removed from Mike’s self-imposed modesty, and Chester was glad of it. “You’ve come a long way, Mike Shinoda.”

**

“Naked day.” Mike smiled at the memory. “We always had a naked day when we went to Kauai.”

“Of course we did,” Chester confirmed. He felt the side of Mike’s coffee cup to get an idea of the temperature and picked it up. “You ready for a sip, love?” He dropped a straw into Mike’s drink to make it easier for him to drink and took a careful seat next to Mike on the bed. 

Mike slowly moved his hand to touch Chester’s knee and nodded. “Please.” The straw hit his lips and his closed his eyes, taking a tiny sip of the now not-quite hot coffee. Chester watched him savor the taste before he swallowed and whispered, “so good.” He took a few more sips as Chester held the cup for him and his other hand stroked lightly over Mike’s hand on his knee.

Chester waited for Mike to rest his head back on the pillow before he set the coffee cup back on the night stand. The light in the bedroom was softer than it had been before he went downstairs to make coffee, so he reached to turn the lamp on, but Mike stopped him.

“Leave it,” Mike pleaded. “Watch the sunset with me.” The hand still on Chester’s knee squeezed with the most gentle pressure. “They’ve always made me think of you. Even before us.” 

“I don’t remember a time before us,” Chester said quietly. “It’s always been me and you, Mike.” He looked toward the windows. He could see the sky through the trees, streaked with orange and pink, but he wanted see it from Mike’s perspective.

Chester stood up and rounded the bed, toeing off his slippers as he pulled back the blankets. Mike didn’t move as Chester climbed into bed and scooted close to him. “Is this okay, love?” he asked, carefully snuggling close to Mike’s side.

“I’ve told you before, Ches. My body doesn’t hurt, it’s just so tired. Just weak… but having you close makes everything so much better. It makes everything feel the way it was before.” Mike turned his head slowly and kissed Chester’s temple as he managed to get his arm across his body to take his husband’s hand. His whole existence seemed to relax into Chester’s comforting warmth.

“I just want to see the sunset the way you see it,” Chester whispered. He rested his head next to Mike’s on the pillow, and looked out at the sky. There were less trees criss-crossing the sky in his new view, and more puffy colored clouds. On this particular night, the colors were brilliantly vivid like a sunset over the ocean, and together they watched the colors change as the sun sank lower and lower on the horizon.

**

“You know we’ll have to go back inside soon,” Chester said, looking over at Mike. 

“But I don’t want to,” Mike whined. “They’re fine, Ches. They’re doing their girl’s night, all that nail painting and stuff. We already put Hana down for the night, and the boys won’t be back for another hour at least.” Mike looked out over the ocean, unwilling to budge. He wanted his quiet time with Chester.

The water was gently coming onto shore as they sat on the private beach watching the sunset. “Stop worrying. It’s all under control.” Mike paused before he said quietly, “you know, these are the best sunsets.” He slid his arm around Chester’s back as he snuck a kiss to his temple. “But it’s hard to watch it when you’re right here, next to me, looking so beautiful.”

“You’re such a romantic.” Chester turned and let their lips come together softly. He grazed his tongue over Mike’s bottom lip and felt his surrender, his warmth and love as they lost themselves in each other. Chester’s hand was curled into Mike’s hair, gently stroking his hair when Mike pulled away and rested his forehead against Chester’s.

“See what I mean?” he whispered. “You consume me. The most amazing sunset in the world doesn’t compare to you, Chester Bennington-Shinoda.” He squeezed his eyes shut and smiled slowly. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep my hands to myself the next few days while the kids are here. The past two days have felt like an eternity.”

“Nobody ever expects you to,” Chester laughed, “but I know Anna and Talinda appreciate us not making out all the time.” 

Mike shrugged with a small smile. “I’m sure they do. But I know if it was really still bothering Anna, she wouldn’t be here. It’s been baby steps through the years, but Abi has been the one to get her to come on these vacations. I don’t know if she’d have ever been willing to try if Abi hadn’t begged so much.”

“It’s been years now. It’s pretty incredible, to go from holiday dinners to two-week vacations,” Chester added, thinking over the times the family was traditionally together. “I know this place is sentimental to us,” he waved his hand toward their beach house, “but I’m pretty sure the family prefers skiing.”

“They’re crazy.” Mike rolled his eyes. “I mean, skiing is fun, but you can’t have a naked day in the mountains. And it’s really all about naked day.”

Chester’s loud laugh was lost in the vast space and the sound of the waves. “I mean, we could, it just wouldn’t be nearly as fun.” 

They turned their attention back to the sunset, which was so low over the ocean that it was turning the sky a deep purple opposite the horizon. The water closest to the sun was a brilliant orange, as was the sky, but the sky overhead was already dark, and stars were poking through the blackness. 

Mike let his arm slide down Chester’s back and wrap around his husband’s waist. “I love coming here. All the memories we’ve made, the ones with the kids and those that are just us.” He analyzed the colors in the sky before he said suddenly, “remember that one sunset that first summer? The one we watched from the lanai bathtub?”

“Mmmhmm,” Chester hummed, running his hand over the sand nearby, combing it through his fingers and feeling it slip and slide under his palm. He remembered laying on the sand, feeling it shift and move under his body as Mike’s weight pressed into him.

They leaned together as Mike went on, completely capturing Chester’s attention with his serious tone of voice. “That was the night I realized a couple of things. I realized I was never going to drink alcohol again. And it hit me that I didn’t care,” he rushed to say as Chester opened his mouth to interject. 

“Let me finish,” he admonished softly, pleased when Chester nodded and he could go on uninterrupted. “It was the night I realized that you and I weren’t two separate people anymore. It was the night I realized that we hadn’t been since the day you walked into the studio and auditioned. You gave me part of you that day, and for the next twenty years we just traded pieces back and forth, until what was me and what was you couldn’t be separated anymore. We can never be separated, Chester. We’re made of each other now.”

Chester shifted on the sand and looked at him, his eyes full of amazement. “You have such a way with words, you know that?”

Mike shook his head. “My words have been designed for you since the day you came into my life and claimed me.” He lifted Chester’s left hand and kissed his wedding ring. “All that realization, that was right here on this beach, Chester. Right where we’re sitting. Do you remember that night?”

“Of course I remember that night,” Chester nodded. “The night we made love on the beach. I’d always wanted to do that. And you made it perfect.”

“When I made love to you that night I was surrendering any separate identity I’d ever had to you. We were truly one person. And I’ve never regretted it.” Mike untangled himself from Chester and cupped his hands around his husband’s head, his thumbs stroking lazily over Chester’s cheeks in the faint light that remained of the sunset. “I love you with every piece of me, you know. Nothing will ever change that.” He brought Chester’s lips to his possessively, sucking in his warmth. 

Neither of them really knew how much time passed on the beach as they traded kisses and touches while the sun disappeared. “I wish we had a blanket,” Chester groaned when Mike pushed him over onto his back, and they both laughed at the recklessness of it all as sand invaded their clothes.

“Not my best idea.” Mike gave up and picked himself up from Chester’s body, brushing the sand off and shaking his head. “We’ll just have to go see about getting everyone in bed and then… then you’ll have to be quiet.”

“I was thinking you were the one that would have to be quiet tonight,” Chester said as he took Mike’s outstretched hand and stood up, brushing himself off. “I think a game of rock, paper, scissors is in order. Wow… how long have we been out here?” He almost sounded surprised as he looked at the darkness all around them. “I have no idea where the time goes when we’re together. How’d you let it get dark out here?” He poked Mike in the side and Mike grabbed him with both hands, pulling their bodies close together.

“Wasn’t the sunset the goal?” He squeezed Chester tightly before he slid his hand down Chester’s arm and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the beach house. “Let’s go get the girls in bed. Hopefully Jaime’s got the boys back from their snorkeling adventure, and everyone can go to sleep. Tomorrow is our big sailing day, they need to get some rest.”

“I’m not gonna let you get any rest,” Chester vowed, lacing his fingers though Mike’s. “There’s too much to do and not enough time. We’ll rest when we’re old… you know, like, seventy, or something.” 

“Seventy,” Mike mused, looking up at the stars. “I wonder what the world will be like when we’re seventy. Like, that’s twenty-one years away for you, Ches, and just think about what we were like twenty-one years ago. Hmmm,” he hummed as he thought backwards, “that was Meteora. Maybe let’s not go there.”

Chester snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, those were some pretty dark days for me. But you were there at every turn, Mikey. Thank God for you, or I’d probably have overdosed somewhere.” His voice turned somber as they neared the house. “You’ve always been my reason for living. Then, now, when we’re seventy. You’re the reason I’m still here, and you’re the reason I’ll be here.”

**

Chester tried to wipe the tear that slid down his cheek away before Mike saw it. He loved it when he and Mike reminisced together, when Mike was cognizant enough to recall details he’d forgotten, but sometimes it was too hard. “I forgot about that,” he whispered, his throat aching. “We had no idea…”

Mike’s eyes were closed but he squeezed Chester’s hand. “We did a great job not resting, Ches. Living life. There’s nothing we didn’t manage to do in our fifty years together. I’ve watched the sun set in countries all over the world with you.” He stopped to catch his breath and put his thoughts in order. He could feel the fatigue washing over him again, clouding his thoughts even as he tried to fight it. “You’ve made it here with me, that was my only fear. Before we were married, I was terrified you’d leave me alone. All I ever wanted was you. You, with me. You never left me, Chester, and, and…” 

“Shhh,” Chester hushed, trying to be soothing. “You’re wearing yourself out, love.” 

“Thank you for staying,” Mike whispered, and he knew that Chester would know he didn’t just mean now. He didn’t just mean thank you for being committed, but it was a simple thank you for working so hard to fight his demons, to let Mike help him, to make the choice to stay alive. He was thanking Chester for making it to forever with him.

“Right here, I’m right here,” Chester whispered back. He leaned over, moving his hand to rest on Mike’s heartbeat. The steadiness was comforting, and for now, that was the most Chester could hope for. “Go to sleep, love. I’m not going anywhere.” _I’m not going to leave you alone, Mike. You’re never going to be alone._

****  
TBC


	5. Showers and Meetings

Mike opened his eyes to see Brad at his side where Chester usually sat. “Where’s Ches?” he asked sleepily, with a little edge of panic to his voice.

Brad looked up from his tablet. “That’s the greeting I get after all these years?” he teased softly, reaching for Mike’s hand. “He’s in the shower, Mike. He’ll be back soon.” He curled his fingers around Mike’s gently and smiled. “How’s it going?”

“I’m tired,” Mike answered, trying to summon the strength to squeeze Brad’s hand back. 

“I know.” Brad tried to stifle the sigh that wanted to escape his mouth. It had been the same answer for months now, and he knew that Mike would never let on if he felt any pain, or was anything other than fatigued. Chester kept reminding them all that Mike’s doctors emphasized he wasn’t feeling pain, but Brad knew Mike well. Even if he was, he’d never tell Chester. Mike had always protected Chester, and it would not surprise him at all if his oldest friend were keeping things to himself just to ease Chester’s worries. Mike would never give his husband anything else to worry about. 

_Husband. Even after all these years, it’s so strange to think of Chester being Mike’s husband._ Brad’s eyes flicked from Mike’s face to the closed door of the bathroom, where Chester had been for only a few minutes. _I don’t know what’s going to happen when Mike is finally at rest. They’ve hardly been away from each other since they’ve been married. They’re so connected… Mike knew. He knew Chester wasn’t sitting here. What will happen to Chester… after?_ The thought of losing both his friends was overwhelming, and knowing he could do nothing about the trajectory they were all on was painful. He pulled his attention away from sad thoughts and back to Mike, asking, “do you need anything, Mike?”

“Just Ches,” Mike mumbled, turning his head on the pillow fitfully. “I want Ches.” His answer was always the same, when Chester wasn’t with him, even though he was never away for very long. 

Brad rolled his lips together, pressing them into a thin line before he soothed, “he’ll be back in a few minutes, Mike. He’s getting a shower before the guys get here. They’re coming over this afternoon. Just to visit for a little bit.” He swallowed and looked down at Mike’s hand in his. The guitar callouses had long since gone from both of their fingertips, leaving behind only smoothness. 

**

“I didn’t know it was going to hurt this much,” Brad whined, a frustrated look on his face. He was leaned over the coffee table on Mike’s parent’s couch, trying to read a guitar tab and put his fingers in the right place. They’d been at it for over an hour, and he was tired of Mike getting it right while he struggled. “I don’t understand why this has to be so much more complicated than clarinet music.”

Mike scoffed, looking sideways at his best friend. “Because you can play more than one note at a time, genius. The chords are totally different than band music. It’s more like piano music, in a lot of ways.” He squinted his eyes in thought and nodded, agreeing with himself. “Makes sense.” 

“Well, not all of us have played piano since we learned how to walk, Shinoda,” Brad said sarcastically. He flopped back into the cushions and glared at Mike, watching as he placed his fingers on the frets carefully, checking the music as he went. 

“You have to actually _try_ , Brad. You’ll never build up callouses if you don’t try.” Mike looked over and strummed once, cocking his head to the side. “That doesn’t sound right,” he mumbled, turning his attention back to the guitar tab. “Oh. My first finger is too high.” He slid his finger down a bit and tried again, and this time his face broke out into a grin. “That’s better. See? We just need to practice more.”

Brad looked down at the second hand guitar he was holding. Maybe his parents were right. Playing guitar was going to be a passing interest, and until he got decent at it, there was no need to invest in a brand new one like Mike’s. Mike was always spending every dime he earned on sound equipment and instruments. “My fingers hurt, Mike,” he whined again, holding up his left hand in front of Mike’s face. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

Mike stopped playing around on his guitar and set it down on the floor so he could turn and face Brad properly. “But… we said we were going to learn how to play together. And I know I can write some stuff! I’ve already got some melodies on the piano. You can’t give up, Delson, you promised.” He eyed Brad’s hand, then reached out and grabbed it, flipping it over first to inspect the neatly groomed nails, then palm side up. “You promised,” he said again, looking at Brad with big sad eyes, the same ones that always got his mom to take his side in arguments with Jason.

“I know,” Brad sighed, “but I might not be cut out for this thing anyway. You know I hate people. You really think that I want to get up on stage and play guitar in front of twenty or thirty people?” The thought was wholly unappealing. The only reason he’d gotten involved in Mike’s music project was because it was almost impossible to say no to Mike Shinoda when he turned on the charm.

Mike could see the involuntary shiver down his friend’s spine as he talked. “You don’t have to do anything except learn some chords. I’ll do the rapping, like I said. I’ve been mixing beats, some sound stuff… I don’t know. Maybe we’ll need a singer eventually, but I’ve got some ideas. We just need to get that Rob kid on board. Then we’ll be set.”

Brad pulled his hand out of Mike’s grip and looked at his sore fingertips again as he mumbled, “who? Rob who?”

With an exasperated eye roll, Mike sighed, “Bourdon. You know, that sophomore kid in jazz band? Told you about him last week. The tall one. Long dark hair. He’s the best one. He can actually read music, and your band director loves him. He’s the only one that can keep a consistent tempo. That’s important in a band.” Mike nodded wisely, indicating that he was absolutely correct in his assessment of what was needed to make their fledgling band a success.

“I guess.” Brad squinted as though he were trying to see Rob from a far away distance. “He’s kinda weird looking though. All that hair. I don’t think my parents will like him with that long hair. They’re already gonna hate this because they think I should be spending all my free time on college applications. They’re determined I’m going to law school eventually.” He shook his head. “I don’t know any lawyers with long hair. That’s a surfer thing.”

“It couldn’t be worse than your chia-head over there,” Mike teased, looking at Brad’s hair. It reminded him of a chia-pet, those little clay creatures that grew grass as though it were fur. Brad’s hair was at least three inches tall on the top, closely shaved on the sides, and he had sideburns for days. He was a hairy guy, and Mike gave him hell about it constantly.

“Whatever, Shinoda. At least I don’t part my hair down the middle like butt cheeks.” Brad caught Mike’s punch to his arm and then it was on, his guitar sliding to the floor with an out of tune thump in the good natured scuffle that ensued. 

Once Mike had asserted his dominance - again - and Brad had retrieved the guitar from the floor, they were back at it, practicing chords with Mike showing Brad where to put his fingers on the fretboard and Brad fussing and complaining the entire time.

“I’ll be lucky to learn four chords,” he bitched, watching Mike’s hands and trying to move from a C-sharp chord to a D-sharp chord.

“Then we’ll just write music with four chords,” Mike encouraged earnestly, causing Brad to finally laugh.

“Yeah, a whole bunch of songs with the same four chords. And people will be like - where did you find this shitty guitarist?” Brad mocked himself, concentrating on his finger placement and trying to press down on the strings despite the soreness.

“I won’t let them say that,” Mike promised. He watched Brad strum the chords, then reached over and pressed his fingers harder into the fretboard. “Like that, Brad. You have to do it harder.”

“Fine,” Brad snapped, going back to C-sharp. “Let’s do it again. Maybe I’ll eventually get some callouses.”

**

“You remember learning guitar together?” Mike could feel Brad’s smooth fingers on the back of his hand, lightly stroking his skin. During their years as Linkin Park, those fingers were calloused professional work-horses. Rough, not soft and gentle like they were now.

“Yeah.” Brad laughed quietly, thinking back to their senior year of high school. “I was such a whiner.”

There was a tiny smile on Mike’s face as he agreed. “Yeah.” They were silent for a moment, then the smile faded from Mike’s lips and his eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Where’s Ches?”

It hadn’t been more than five minutes since Brad had told Mike that Chester was in the shower. His heart ached as he repeated patiently, “in the shower, Mike. He’ll be back in a minute. The other guys are coming. Rob and Joe and Dave.” He bit back the word _remember?_ It was one of the worst things to say when Mike was forgetting what was going on around him currently.

Chester had explained to everyone that Mike could remember things from years ago, but sometimes not what he’d had for breakfast that day. His long-term memories seemed to be more in tact than the short-term memories, though he did have good days. The forgetfulness had been so subtle for so long that when things got worse rapidly it had been a shock to them all. 

“Okay,” Mike mumbled before he said despairingly, “I want Ches.” 

“I know. You always have,” Brad answered, still caressing Mike’s skin. The shower was still running, and he mentally encouraged Chester to hurry.

“Not always,” Mike argued, a furrow in his brow. “Once I wanted you,” he whispered, as thought it were a shameful secret.

“That was a long, long time ago, Mike.” Brad dropped his eyes to stare at his friend’s long fingers, at the nails Chester was keeping carefully trimmed the way Mike always had when he was able to do it himself. “We both made peace with that before you married Chester.”

“Yes,” Mike agreed softly. “Just saying, I haven’t _always_ wanted Ches.”

Brad could hear the slight teasing tone in Mike’s voice and he linked their fingers together again, a rueful smile on his lips. “Oh, Mike. I knew it before you ever did.”

“Maybe.” Mike opened his eyes a crack. “He’s in the shower?”

Brad nodded, affirming the same information a third time. “He’ll be right back. I promise.”

“The shower,” Mike repeated, his mind pulling up an image. 

**

He was standing under the shower spray, rinsing shampoo out of his hair, when he heard the door open. A grin spread over his face in an instant. “Ches? You’ve already had a shower. What are you doing?”

Mike felt Chester’s hands as they slid around his waist. “I’m horny, Mikey. It’s been, like, three days.” Chester flexed his fingers into the wet skin over Mike’s hips. The dark trail of hair below his bellybutton looked extra enticing as water followed the trail down, disappearing between Mike’s legs.

With a chuckle, Mike shook the water from his eyes and opened them to see his husband’s petulant stare. “You’re a mess,” he admonished softly, turning around in the spray to reach his body wash. He felt Chester step closer to him and press their bodies together. The feeling of Chester’s hard cock making itself at home between Mike’s ass cheeks was all it took for his own dick to wake up. “Chester,” he groaned. “We can’t do this in here. Hana just fell asleep. She’s literally on the other side of the wall.” 

“She’s fine, Mike. If you think for one second I’m going to limit our sexual activities on tour to the times our baby daughter is out of the room, you are mistaken. You know Liz deserves time off after having Hana all day during the show _and_ the meet and greet. Come onnnn,” Chester whined, pulling on Mike’s hips and snuggling his dick a little closer.

Mike shook his head though he was grinning wide. “So you’re saying I should stop getting clean at the moment because we’re just going to get dirty anyway?” He bent over to put down his body wash and both men moaned softly as Chester’s wet tip poked at his entrance.

“I knew you wouldn’t say no,” Chester congratulated himself, reaching down to rub himself against Mike. “Admit it. You want me. You always want me. You always _have_ wanted me.”

“I’m pretty sure there was at least a day or two in the past quarter century that I was mad at you and didn’t want your ass,” Mike teased, knowing it would ruffle Chester’s feathers. “Sometimes you can be downright exhausting.”

“Exhausting? Me?” Chester leaned forward and kissed Mike’s wet shoulder, his hand still on his own cock. “I’m pretty sure that even when you’re mad at me, you still think I’m sexy as fuck.”

“Sexy as fuck,” Mike mused aloud. “Is that what you think I’m thinking in my head? Sexy as fuck?” Mike turned around then and returned Chester’s embrace. “You might be right.” He shrugged, ready to give up the charade of pretending he hadn’t thought Chester was sexy for years. “If this is any indication.” He aligned their hips and their erections met each other happily in the shower warmth. “I mean, I don’t know.”

“Don’t tease anymore, Mikey,” Chester pleaded. “You know we don’t have long, Hana will wake up hungry soon and-”

Mike silenced him with a kiss. Over the past few years it had become his preferred method of ending any conversation between them, and one he used to his advantage more than he should. He felt himself smiling into the embrace of their lips right before Chester pulled back and glared at him playfully.

“You always do that.” He smacked Mike’s wet ass with his hand and fixed him with a disapproving stare.

“Do what?” Mike asked innocently. “I have no idea what I did to deserve that spanking. What did I do?”

“You always shut me up with a kiss,” Chester complained, even as he stroked his hands lovingly over Mike’s back. It was warm and wet from the shower, and smooth like always.

“I do not.” Mike reached out to tap Chester’s nose with one finger. “You’re making that up.”

“You do! I’ll be in the middle of some great story, or some rant, and you just lean over and-”

This time Mike had both hands on Chester’s dripping cheeks when he pulled them together, letting his tongue come forward to take advantage of Chester’ open mouth, swallowing his words with a kiss. He waited for the weight of Chester’s body to sag into his before he pulled back. “Oh, you mean like that.” Mike shrugged indifferently. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

“Stop fucking around and fuck me, Mike,” Chester ordered, pulling out of Mike’s grip and turning around to place his palms on the low ledge in the shower, bending his body in half and putting his ass in the air. “I swear, if you don’t make this happen and I have to go another second-”

“You’ll what?” Mike interrupted, reaching between Chester’s open legs to fondle him gently, smirking when he rendered his husband speechless. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, continuing his loving assault on Chester’s body. “And here I was thinking you wanted to fuck me…” 

**

“Mikey?”

The sound of Chester’s voice brought Mike back to the present, though he could have stayed in the memory of making love to Chester in a hotel shower in Germany a little longer. Those memories were as clear as a spring day. It was a nicer place inside his head than the current reality of forgetfulness, but right now the reality was that Chester was back. “Ches,” he mumbled happily. “Missed you.”

“I missed you, too, love,” Chester whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning down to kiss Mike’s forehead. “The guys are all here, do you feel up to everyone coming in? Or just a few of us at a time?” Ever since Mike had taken to bedrest, Chester tried so hard to keep the worried tone from his voice, and he was never quite sure if he succeeded. To his own ears he sounded terribly panicked, but Mike never seemed to pick up on his distress. It was something to be grateful for, he supposed. _I hope he doesn’t hear it, and it’s not that he’s ignoring it. I don’t want him to take care of me. He’s always done that. It’s my turn to take care of him._

After a heavy moment of silence, Mike answered, “band meeting?” His closed eyes squeezed tighter as he tried to make sense of what he was being told. If all whole band was at the house, his mind wanted them all to visit together. That was what made sense. Talking together, like they always had, since the very beginning. 

Chester smiled and ran his fingers over Mike’s facial hair he’d been keeping trimmed for him. “Yeah. Like a band meeting.”

“I’ll go get them,” Brad offered, standing up from the chair he was sitting in next to the bed. “He’s been asking for you,” he whispered in Chester’s ear and saw him nod before he turned away.

Mike’s face was relaxed, his breathing slow and even, as Chester snuggled up to his side. “Brad said you were asking for me?” Chester nuzzled his face close to Mike’s ear. “Do you need something, love?”

“Just you,” Mike said simply, breathing in the scent of Chester’s lavender body wash. “I don’t want you to go so far.”

“I won’t,” Chester promised. “I don’t want to be away from you. I really thought you were sleeping, and since Brad was here, I thought I could get a quick shower without you missing me.”

Mike frowned. “I can _feel_ when you aren’t here, Ches. There’s a pull on my soul when you’re not with me. I’m empty without you.”

“I know. We haven’t spent a night apart since we got married. Not one. I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want to spend any without you, Mike. I…”

“Shhh,” Mike soothed as Chester was overcome with emotion for a moment. “I shouldn’t have said that. Ches, we’re always going to be together. Me and you.”

Chester nodded, wiping away the tears that had managed to escape down his cheeks. “Okay. Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Mikey, if this meeting is too much, just tell me, and everyone can come in one at a time. Okay? We don’t have to do this all together.”

“But it’s our last meeting,” Mike responded quietly.

Chester felt his heart seize and his eyes prick again. “No, Mike… please… don’t talk like that,” he pleaded, biting back tears. 

Mike cracked his eyes to see his husband. “Don’t cry. They know.” He took in a slow breath. “We’ve known. It’s… gonna be okay.”

Chester studied Mike’s face for a moment, the deep brown eyes that he worshipped. He missed the way they glittered at him with laughter, with lust, with love, with pride. Every moment Mike’s eyes were open, looking at him, cut straight to Chester’s heart. “Knowing doesn’t make it any easier,” he admitted, cursing himself for unburdening his thoughts on Mike. When Mike had been diagnosed, Chester promised he’d be strong. And here he was, falling apart at the end. 

“I’m sorry,” Mike started to say, and Chester interrupted him.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Chester whispered, leaning to place a gentle kiss on Mike’s lips. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I promised you there would be no sadness. We’ve done it all. Everything I wanted to experience, I experienced with you. I’m grateful you picked me.”

“It’s always been you, Ches. I chose you.” Mike’s eyes slid slowly closed and he whispered, “from the first time I heard you sing, it was always you.”

**

Mike watched in awe as the painfully awkward, skinny guy with the giant t-shirt and oversized jeans ducked his head and looked at the ground. _Holy fuck. He’s the one. The one, he’s what we’re looking for. Oh, my god, please choose us. Please._ He couldn’t believe the voice that had just come out of the boy in front of them, and he tried to look sideways at Brad without being obvious.

“Thanks, man, that was good. I know you saw the others who are auditioning out in the lobby-”

“Yeah, man, it’s cool. You’ll let me know, and shit,” Chester mumbled, interrupting Brad’s polite wrap up of the audition, like he’d heard the same line a thousand times. He pushed back his hair and then his glasses before uncomfortably cupping his left hand around his neck. “I know the drill.”

From his seat behind the table, Mike looked up anxiously at Brad. _Damn it, Brad doesn’t sound convinced. But I know, this guy is the one._ He watched Rob and Joe as they scribbled notes on Chester’s resume and felt his heart start thumping hard. They were all going to let this _Chester_ walk out! That wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. When he had a gut feeling about something, he needed the other guys to feel the same way, and right now, it looked as though they were all indifferent. _How can they not be impressed with a voice like that? That range! He can actually sing! I wish I could sing like that._

“I was only going to say, you should wait out in the lobby,” Brad said pointedly. “Just give us a few minutes.”

“Sure, sure,” Chester said as he looked up, and then his gaze met Mike’s. Chester’s caramel eyes seemed to hold secrets behind his round, wire-rimmed glasses, and Mike wanted to know each and every one right then. They looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, then Chester turned and shuffled toward the door. “It was nice meeting you all.” The polite tone somehow dripped with self-deprecation, and Mike felt his heart pinch as Chester’s shoulders seemed to collapse inward on his body.

They all watched as the door closed heavily behind him, and then everyone seemed to talk at once.

_Incredible voice! I never would have thought looking at him!_

_He doesn’t seem very comfortable in the spotlight. What kind of frontman would he make?_

_He put that demo together in a day, you guys. A day. Who does that?_

Then Mike cleared his throat, and his friends stopped chattering and looked at him. “He’s the one,” Mike said simply, holding both hands in the air in front of him as he laughed in disbelief. “I’m telling you. He’s what we’ve been looking for. There’s something so raw in his, his _voice_ ,” Mike went on, running Chester’s audition on repeat in his mind. He couldn’t say, _I see it in his eyes. He’s as desperate for something to take off as we are. He’s gonna work his ass off. I can see it._

He knew Brad would roll his eyes and dismiss it as the same desperation courted by all the singers they’d heard. Of course everyone wanted to be a rock star. Of course they were all desperate. Every day they got older was another day further away from their dream becoming a reality. There was only so long they could hold on to the hope of becoming a rockstar before they had to give up and become an adult instead.

Rob nodded thoughtfully. “He really is the best one we’ve heard so far.” His voice was somewhat absent while he tapped his pencil on the table and created another beat in his head.

“What do you think, Joe?” Brad asked, looking over at the final member of the band, who was doodling in the margins of Chester’s resume.

With a shrug, Joe answered, “whatever Mike says, man. I trust his gut.” He started shading a shape with his pencil and Brad narrowed his eyes at the emcee.

Mike watched Brad let out a long sigh and look at the door Chester had disappeared though. “He’s so… awkward, Mike. Really? You think his voice is that good?”

Mike felt the energy course though him as Brad stood with his hands on his hips. He knew he was close to getting an agreement from the one person in the band who was the hardest to convince of anything. “I do. Brad. You’ve got to trust me. I just… there’s something there. I want him, he’s the one.” Their eyes locked together and Mike felt his face grow hot. 

“So you’re choosing him. Based on his _voice._ And that’s it.” Brad didn’t blink as he stared Mike down. There was an unspoken challenge in Brad’s question, but talking about whether or not Mike found Chester attractive in front of Rob and Joe wasn’t going happen. 

“Yeah. That’s what I said.” Mike swallowed, then looked away. He just knew in his gut, Chester would be the one to bring to life the darkness in his lyrics. There was something about his eyes that spoke to Mike, that told him Chester had more than his fair share of darkness inside. Mike wanted him. “I choose him,” he stated confidently, and Rob and Joe nodded their heads. _It’s got nothing to do with anything other than his voice. God, that voice._ He felt his insides stir a little as he thought about the sounds he’d just heard come out of Chester’s mouth. It was like Chester had awakened something inside Mike’s soul. 

“Okay,” Brad said finally, eyeing him steadily. “You go get him. You can tell those other guys out there we’re done. That we’ve found our new singer.” He waved his hand in the direction of the door and then sat back down behind the table, resting both his elbows on the sides of Chester’s resume, staring down at the list of local bands he’d fronted.

Mike almost skipped across the room before he caught himself, and sucked in a calming breath as he opened the door and stepped into the lobby. There were two people left - Chester, and another guy, who promptly stood up and addressed Mike directly.

“If y’all don’t take him, you’re fucking stupid,” he said, waving his hand around the lobby. “We all heard him through the door, and everybody else just left. He’s fucking awesome.”

The grin on Mike’s face was so wide it practically showed his back teeth. “Thanks, man, we’ve made a decision.” Chester was staring at the ground in front of him, expressionless, as Mike told the other singer the hadn’t bothered to audition, “you can go.”

Chester’s head snapped up, his eyes locking with Mike’s for a second time. This time, instead of dramatic angst, Mike felt like he was looking into the hopeful eyes of a small child. He heard the other guy mumble a few more words on his way out, and then it was just Mike and Chester in the lobby of their shitty rented studio space.

“Really? You guys want me?” A tentative smile hit Chester’s lips as Mike stared, totally enamored of the raw emotions he saw flitting over the face of his new vocalist.

“Yep, come on back in, Chester. Let’s go talk business. Your first official band meeting. That is, if you want the job.”

There was no hesitation. “Yeah. Fuck yeah, I want the job.” 

The smile on Chester’s face became a full out grin, and as they smiled at each other, Mike got the sense that things were only just beginning, that the universe was shifting around them. Something told him that they were going to be unbeatable together. He could feel it coming, the band’s dynamic changing already as he held the door open and watched Chester walk through in a daze. _He’s the one. Chester Bennington. I think we’ve finally found someone special._

**

“I knew,” Mike whispered. “Chester… I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Chester looked up as his bandmates came into the bedroom, and he kissed Mike’s cheek before he sat up and leaned against the headboard. One hand stayed in Mike’s hair, gently twirling the gray strands through his fingers the way he’d done so many times over the years. “Come on in, you guys,” he offered to the group hesitating near the doorway.

It wasn’t the first time they’d been all together in the space, but there was something exceptionally poignant this time. He and Mike had just been talking about the first band meeting they’d ever had, and Chester knew this would be the last time the six of them were together. Looking around, he realized that everyone was thinking the same thing. It was almost physically painful to see the kindness and sympathy on the faces of the four men he called his brothers while everyone found a place to sit… Rob and Brad in the chairs and Joe and Dave on the window seat. The white curtains were billowing in the breeze, transparent in the sunshine streaming through the open windows.

“Mikey,” he said sweetly, focusing his mind on his husband, “everyone’s here. For the meeting.” He felt Mike barely nod his head.

“Oh, good.” Mike’s voice was just a breath. 

“Thanks for letting us all come,” Rob said quietly, looking first at Mike and then at Chester. “We just wanted you to know we love you, Mike.”

Mike smiled softly. “I know,” he whispered. “Talk to me. Tell stories, you guys.”

Chester watched Mike carefully, still playing with his hair. “Okay, Mikey. But we’re gonna make you laugh, you tell me if you need us to tone it down.” He looked around and everyone else nodded their agreement. This afternoon was going to be full of good memories, not sadness.

“Deal,” Mike said. “You talk now, Ches. I’m too tired.”

Chester lifted Mike’s hand and kissed the back of it gently. “Ok, my love. You rest now. Just rest.” He kept his focus on Mike’s face as the laughter and stories of years past started around him, but all he could hear was Mike’s steady breathing. 

****  
TBC


	6. Holding On and Letting Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mike’s diagnosis comes out in this chapter as the story starts focusing on the inevitable, so if reading about natural death upsets you, you might want to leave now. I’ll understand.

Chester turned on his side and reached for Mike, his eyes still closed. He held his breath until he could hear his husband’s breathing and feel the gentle warmth from his body, and then he allowed himself to fall back into the bliss of forgetfulness. With his eyes closed, everything was right in his world. In this happy place, he’d wake Mike up and they would chat in bed for a few minutes, each of them finding treasured places to caress with their hands while they giggled and kissed. This was a quiet time he indulged every morning lately as he snuggled close to his love, tucking his face close to Mike’s neck and wrapping his arm around his stomach, blocking out reality. 

_“Mmmm, Mike,” Chester murmured, pressing his naked body flush against his husband, “Mikey, wake up, love.” He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as Mike turned over, eyes closed, and grabbed at his hips._

_“It’s our honeymoon, Ches,” Mike whined softly. “I promised I’d let you sleep in, and you keep waking me up.”_

_Small kisses moved down Mike’s throat. “I can’t help it,” Chester breathed, “I want to spend every second with you. I know when we get back you’ll be cracking the whip in the studio like you always do, and it will be impossible to get you into bed.”_

_Mike’s giggle was low, seductive. “That’s not true and you know it. I’d never deny you, love. You always get exactly what you want.”_

_Chester’s lips dragged over Mike’s shoulder as his fingers played over his exposed dark nipples. “You’re right, I do,” Chester agreed, nudging his leg over Mike’s and sliding on top of him._

It was just a brief flash of a memory, but it was enough to cause the dull ache that had been present in Chester’s heart for months to flare. Every morning he was grateful for another day, even though each day was harder to get through than the last. He had never imagined, when he stood at the waterfall in Kauai and promised forever, that forever would be so hard. Somehow that day, staring into Mike’s expressive and loving eyes, he’d managed to avoid thoughts of dying and death, of sickness and the trials that would come with one of them falling into a terminal illness. Forty-two year old Chester was on top of the world, and in his eyes, Mike Shinoda was invincible. It never crossed his mind that life would end the same way it started - so difficult it was hard to get out of bed in the morning.

But, he reminded himself as he rubbed his fingers over the soft skin of Mike’s stomach, every day he woke up now was for Mike. He wasn’t a child or a teenager anymore, hiding from realities he wanted to forget. He wasn’t so drugged he couldn’t move or so depressed he couldn’t even be bothered to open his eyes. He was a life partner, a husband, a treasured friend and lover. He’d spent fifty years loving the man next to him, and everything he did was for Mike. Waking up each morning to care for him, to face the end of their days together, was a different kind of trial for Chester, but he was faithfully plodding along. 

He didn’t want to think about it right now. Chester Bennington-Shinoda wanted to lay with his husband and not move until Mike woke up. He matched his breathing to Mike’s, steady and strong, in and out. He didn’t want to think about Mike not waking up. He didn’t want to think about holding on and then letting go. 

****

“Daddy? You awake?”

Chester lifted his head when Hana touched his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, even though it was a lie. He reached up to rub his eyes and look over at Mike. He was still asleep, and the sight tugged at Chester’s heart. All of the thoughts he’d pushed away earlier that morning came rushing in as he stared at his husband. At any point, he could go to sleep, and that would be it. He’d never wake up again. Even though they’d had years to prepare, Mike had still been so capable for so long that it almost seemed like the end would never come. It seemed as though their time had magically been on a never-ending extension. Until the morning a few weeks ago that Mike could no longer get himself out of bed, their time together felt charmed. It seemed like they were impossibly lucky. 

“Anna’s here,” his daughter said softly, interrupting his thoughts as he gazed upon Mike. “And O, too. I think maybe Anna didn’t want to come alone.” Hana curled a lock of her black hair nervously through her fingers, waiting for Chester to rise from the bed.

“It will be fine, Hana,” he reassured her, reaching for his glasses. “I’ll come down for Anna, if you want to sit with Papa for a minute?” He looked anxiously at Mike, who hadn’t stirred. “I’ll be right back.”

Sliding out of the bed, Chester paused for a moment to get his balance, letting the fog behind his eyes clear. He knew that Hana had noticed, but she didn’t say anything. “Why don’t you open the windows?” he asked, hoping to deflect her attention onto something else as he tried to remember the last meal he’d eaten. He wasn’t sure if it was last night, or maybe the night before, but it didn’t matter. Nothing tasted right anymore, and eating was a chore.

“Okay, Daddy,” Hana replied, walking to the wall of windows and pushing the thin white sheers out of the way. White was a color she associated her whole life with her fathers. Throughout her childhood they’d always had white linens in their room, and the white sheer curtains on the windows that Mike always wanted to open. She turned away from the morning sunlight and looked back at the bed, wondering if he would ever wake up again. 

As Chester’s feet hit the bottom step, Otis and Anna came into view, talking quietly in the entry. Anna looked good, he realized, her gray hair cut into a chic bob with side swept bangs, her light gray wrap dress cinched loosely at the waist. Over the years she’d gained a little weight, the way all women did as they approached their later years, but her thin frame had always had room to gain a few pounds without it becoming noticeable. He reached out and pulled her into a familiar hug, smiling as Anna wrapped her arms around his middle. “It’s good to see you, Anna,” he murmured before stepping back to hug his son.

“How’s he today?” Anna asked immediately, tucking her hair behind her ear and glancing at Otis. He’d come alone, his wife and daughters staying behind at her place for the afternoon. 

Chester patted over Otis’ green checked button down and smiled at the way his son’s hair fell into his eyes, just like Mike’s had done in his thirties. Otis looked far younger than his age, and had never quite lost the ability to wear his hair a little longer. “He’s been asleep all morning. In fact, I’d fallen back to sleep with him. I was still in bed when Hana came in.” He motioned to his wrinkled pajamas with a wry smile. “Sorry about that. I knew you were coming, but… it’s been getting harder to get up in the morning.”

Anna glanced at Otis and then back at Chester. “Do you think…” she let her voice trail off, not wanting to say the words aloud. _Are we close to the end? Is this it?_ She couldn’t bear to say it, somehow thinking that if they never did, it wouldn’t be real.

“I think it will be soon,” Chester confirmed, his spirit taking a hit as he did. “The hospice nurse was here last night. He’s so damn stubborn, though. There’s some reason he’s holding on. Something is keeping him, and I don’t know what. He’s seen everyone. I don’t know why he’s fighting it.”

“It’s you, Dad,” Otis said simply. “If there’s one thing I know about Papa, it’s that he’s going to fight for you until he can’t anymore. He always has.” 

Chester ran his hand over his cheek, then across his mouth as he processed Otis’ thoughts. “Maybe you’re right,” he finally agreed, his voice colored with pain. “It won’t matter how many times I tell him I’m okay, he will believe it when he decides to believe it. I’m not sure I can do anything to make him feel better. Most of the time he’s not even sure what’s real and what’s just a memory.” He pressed his knuckles to his lips to hide the quivering.

“Is it okay if I sit with him for a while?” Anna asked gently, relieved when Chester simply nodded his head. “Otis, go make some coffee, okay? Chester, go sit down and have some toast or something. I’ll be with him, I’ll let you know if we need you.” She watched Otis take his step-father by the elbow and lead him into the kitchen before she slowly made her way up the stairs, her memory carrying her right to the master bedroom without even thinking about it.

Otis helped Chester over to the small breakfast table, bathed in sunlight that streamed in from the uncovered windows. He waited as Chester sat down gingerly, sighing as if the effort were simply too much. “Dad, you have to take care of yourself, too, you know,” he said, moving into his childhood kitchen to make coffee. “You can’t help him if you’re not eating, if you make yourself sick.” He filled the kettle and put it on the gas stove, then turned and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed to look at Chester.

Chester’s eyes were on the back garden, his thoughts with Mike and memories of years past, of parties and barbecues, swimming and soccer with the children, memories of Josie and Abi, Otis and Hana. “I’m fine,” he said, just as stubborn as Mike. “I know exactly what I’m doing,” Chester added. “When you’ve been with Liv for fifty years, you’ll understand.” 

Otis thought of Olivia, the bright smile of his wife and her curly blonde hair immediately coming to mind. Though they’d only been married fifteen years, they’d been high school sweethearts, and he happily tacked another ten on to their history, the same way Mike and Chester added all the years before marriage to their total. “We’re almost halfway there, you know,” he said as Chester turned to look at him.

“Live every second with her, as big and beautiful and messy and wonderful as life can be. And then you’ll get it. You’ll understand why nothing means anything to me without Mike.” Chester stopped, and Otis waited, watching the emotions flutter over his face. “Your dad is everything in the world to me.”

“I know that,” Otis agreed gently. “I knew it when I was eleven years old and he told me that you two were getting married.” He turned back to the stove, biting his bottom lip to hold back the sting of tears he felt coming. Everyone knew that Mike and Chester loved each other with every ounce of themselves.

Chester closed his eyes and blocked everything else out.

**

“Mike, please,” Chester tried again, reaching across the table and taking his husband’s hand. “I can’t stand not knowing what you’re thinking.”

It took too much effort for Mike to drag his eyes away from the dimming light of the back garden. _Inoperable. That’s what the doctor said, that there was nothing they could do. It could be six months or six years, there’s no way to know._ “I don’t know what I think,” he answered, his voice hollow. It was all too unbelievable. 

Chester felt the blood freeze in his veins. The Mike he knew always had the answer. Mike always knew what to say to make things better, and he always had a plan. In the forty-one years that Chester had known him, Mike had always been the voice of reason in the darkest of times. That his husband had no answers, no thoughts, no plan to fix things already clicking away in his head, was harder to understand than the diagnosis.

“You have to be thinking something,” Chester said. “You’re not just sitting there, staring out the window with no thoughts, I know you.” He was suddenly afraid to press for more. The blank look on Mike’s face and the tone of his voice was scaring him.

They sat in silence a while longer before Mike finally looked at Chester. “I don’t know what to say, Ches,” he said, squeezing his husband’s hand. “We wanted answers, I just didn’t think this would be it. I thought it would be something easy, that I could pop a pill or a supplement, and things would be normal again.” They had both wanted an answer to Mike’s fatigue, and occasional memory lapses. At first they had both written it off as an inconvenience that arrived with age, but then the headaches came. 

“It doesn’t seem real,” Chester said, his eyes on Mike’s face. “When I look at you, all I see if the same Mike there’s always been. You look perfectly healthy.” In his eyes, Mike still looked twenty-one. He didn’t think that memory could ever fade, no matter how many years passed.

“That’s the thing, huh? The way the doctor made it sound, this could have gone on undetected, if I hadn’t been so adamant that the memory issues weren’t just a product of getting older.” Mike blew out a long, pained breath. “Brain cancer, Chester. It’s so final sounding.” He stared down at their hands, linked together on the small breakfast table. 

Chester felt the panic rising in his body again. “Maybe Dr. Pollack is wrong about the options we have, we haven’t even gotten a second opinion yet.” He pushed his chair back, dropping Mike’s hand to pace circles around the kitchen. They’d only been home from the earth-shattering appointment for an hour, not long enough to make a plan. “We can go see someone else tomorrow, Mike! There has to be someone who can do something, it’s not like we can’t afford the very best!” Chester’s voice was passionate as he thought aloud. “There must be more options than just sitting and waiting, and letting this slowly kill you!” He spun around and grabbed the edge of the bar as a crippling wave of pain sweep over him. 

Mike was on his feet, his arms around Chester in seconds. “Ches, stop,” he begged. “You saw the MRI yourself. You saw where that tumor is. Dr. Pollack is the best neurologist in L.A., with the best team of surgeons money can buy. Chasing after a cure, all that’s going to do is steal time from us.” He titled Chester’s chin up and looked into the eyes he loved. “Chester, you heard what he said. It could be years until I’m so sick that we can’t enjoy the time we have left, but if we decide to pursue surgeries and chemo, and all of those things that _aren’t even guaranteed to work, that might just make me sicker_ , we might as well say goodbye now. And I can’t do that. Not yet.”

A sob choked from Chester’s lungs as he wrapped his arms around Mike. “You can’t leave me, Mike!” He buried his face in his husband’s neck and held on tightly. “You’re the only reason I’m even still here! I can’t do this without you!”

Mike stroked Chester’s back, his palms rubbing flat over the muscles under the thin t-shirt covering them. “You’ve made it this far with me, love. I won’t leave you until I know you can make it on your own.”

**

Anna pushed the door open, her eyes immediately catching Hana in the chair next to the bed. “I’m here, Hana,” she said, announcing her presence as her footsteps fell silent on the thick carpeting. “Otis is making coffee, if you want some.” She was hoping for just a few minutes alone with Mike, but she couldn’t tell if Hana would be willing to leave her father’s side.

“I could use some, thanks Anna.” Hana got to her feet, reaching out to touch Mike’s hand when she leaned over and said, “I’ll be back, Papa.” She turned to Anna, walking close and lowering her voice. “He hasn’t been awake all morning.”

Anna nodded, her heart sinking a little. The things she wanted to say, she knew that Mike already knew them, but it would have felt better to have her thoughts acknowledged. The idea that she was saying too little, too late, hit her unexpectedly. “Tell Chester once he’s had something to eat, to come on up. I’ll stay with Mike until he’s back.”

“Okay.” Hana looked from Anna to Mike again before she asked, “do you want me to shut the door?”

The empathy of Mike and Chester’s daughter brought a brief smile to Anna’s face. She’d known Hana her entire life, and the precocious little girl had grown into a very wise woman. Hana seemed to sense that Anna needed a private moment with her father. “If you don’t mind, Hana, thank you.”

Hana nodded, pulling the door closed behind her as she left Anna alone with Mike. Anna watched her leave before she took a few shaky steps toward the bed. It was so hard to see Mike motionless and quiet under the blankets, and she braced herself as she sat down in the chair Hana had just left.

“Mike?” Anna called softly, reaching to take his hand that was laying at his side. “It’s Anna.” She paused, hoping for some recognition to show on Mike’s face, but nothing changed. “You don’t have to wake up, honey… I just wanted to talk…” Her voice broke as she took another, longer break and squeezed Mike’s hand. “I know it’s been a long time, and we’ve lived a lot of life since the kids were little. Lots of good memories.” 

Anna looked around the bedroom. It was a room she’d once shared with Mike, but it was not the way she remembered it. The giant four poster bed, the sitting area that hadn’t existed when she lived there, the muted masculine colors, it was all different. Everything was different, except for the open windows, and she had to smile as the white sheers waved gently in the breeze. _Mike always opened the windows. He always wanted the fresh air in here._ She couldn’t stop herself from reaching to brush her fingertips over his cheek, then a single finger across his forehead to move his hair aside. 

“I forgave you a long time ago,” she whispered, leaning close to Mike’s ear. “I wanted to tell you that. And that I never stopped loving you and being proud of you. You were my first love, and you gave me three amazing kids. It took me a long time to understand why all this happened, Mike. Longer than it should have, and I’m sorry for that. You’ve been the very best father. And Chester, too. Our kids have been well loved, and I never thanked you for that, either. If you couldn’t love me, I’m grateful it was Chester. He’s got such a good heart, Mike. He loves you so much.” Anna pressed her lips together, curling them inward as she tried not to cry. 

“Ann,” Mike breathed, his eyes still closed.

The sound of his whisper caused Anna to jump, then smile as her heart lifted from the sorrowful place it had sunk into. “Yeah, I’m here,” she replied, stroking her free hand down his arm.

“I’m sorry.” The words were heavy, laced with something that sounded like regret. 

“Stop, please,” Anna pleaded with him. “That’s not why I came. You don’t need to apologize any more. You’ve apologized enough. I was young and hurt and I said, I _did_ , some ugly things to you, Mike. I wanted you to know that I’m sorry for all of that. I didn’t come so that you could say you’re sorry again. No regrets, okay? I know that you loved me, and I know you struggled for a long time with the way you feel about Chester. But I’ve never seen two people love each other the way you do.”

Mike nodded, barely squeezing Anna’s hand. “I’ve always loved you, Anna.” He didn’t need to say that he’d never loved her the way he loved Chester. They both knew it was true without forcing him to spend precious energy saying it. 

Anna traced her fingers over Mike’s beard and down his neck, placing her hand over his heart. His heartbeat was still strong. “You’re so stubborn, Mike,” she finally said. “What are you holding on so tightly for? You’ve seen the kids, you’ve said your goodbyes… you can let go, now, honey. You don’t always have to be so strong.”

Mike wanted to tell Anna she was wrong. That he hadn’t always felt like the strong one, that there were times he’d needed Chester to pull him up, but it was too much effort, too many things to explain. It would take more intimate details than he wanted to share, and more energy than he had now. There was no need to talk about it all, anyway. Anna knew. There was peace between them, and that was what mattered. They had made it through years of co-parenting, shared holidays and vacations for the sake of the children, until they were eighteen. Mike had always cherished her as the mother of his children, and continually tried through the years to set things right between the two of them. Even though he knew she’d forgiven him, it meant everything to hear it now. “I know,” he whispered, turning his head slowly toward his ex-wife. 

Anna looked at the familiar face of the man she’d once wanted to hold on to so tightly that she only managed to make them both suffer, far longer than they should have. She knew there was far more in his heart now than he was saying, thoughts he was hiding behind the paling face and closed eyes. Otis’ words came to her mind, and she decided to take a chance. “If you’re holding on for Chester, Mike, you don’t have to anymore. We’re all here for him. We’ll take care of him. I promise you that I will make sure he’s okay.”

It was a struggle, but Mike finally opened his eyes to look at Anna. “He’s coming, too,” he said urgently. “He promised.”

Anna’s breath caught in her throat as Mike’s dark eyes met hers. He looked completely lucid, surprising her before she shook her head with a sympathetic smile. “You’ll be together again,” she promised, her heart aching for them. There was no way to know what would happen when death came, but Anna didn’t doubt that Chester would somehow, someway, find Mike in the afterlife. However that afterlife looked, they were sure to find each other again. “You’re part of each other. And I understand that now, I do. Everything turned out the way it was meant to be, and everything will be fine, Mike. It’s time to let yourself rest.”

“He’s coming,” Mike insisted before his eyes closed again. “He’ll tell you. He promised.”

“Okay, Mike,” she soothed, feeling guilty that she’d upset him. “You’re right. He’s coming. Don’t you worry.”

**

“Promise me you’ll stay with me,” Mike whispered desperately. “Promise me when I don’t know who I am anymore that you’ll remind me, Chester, promise me.” They were laying on their sides facing each other in the bed, fresh from the shower where they’d tried to wash away the sorrows of the day. 

After the third visit to a different specialist, after the third time receiving the same information, Mike had demanded they stop wasting time looking for answers and instead start planning. He wanted to leave the hope for treatment behind and make the most of what the time they would have together, and Chester finally agreed. He knew Mike had only gone along with finding new doctors to consult because _Chester_ wanted him to keep trying for a solution. It was cruel to keep reliving the same diagnosis at each visit.

Every doctor had told them the same thing: no matter who they talked to, the fact remained that Mike would slowly lose his battle with brain cancer, and there was nothing they could do to stop it. The location of the tumor was too deep, in too delicate a location, and trying to remove it could be deadly. It was exhausting conversation, and all he wanted now was Chester’s reassurances. 

“I’ll be there,” Chester promised, pressing his hand over Mike’s heart as he thought about everything they’d been told about what to expect. “I’ll be everything you need. If you need someone to bathe you, I’m there. Someone to feed you, I’m there. Someone to tell you stories and make you smile, I’m there.” He blinked back tears and watched Mike as he did the same. “You’re my whole life, Mike. I can’t imagine it without you.”

“Maybe if I’d done something differently… maybe I could have prevented this somehow. I’m sorry.” Mike started to apologize, but Chester stopped him.

“You didn’t do anything, Mikey. You didn’t cause this.”

Mike slid an arm around his husband and pulled him tightly against his body, closing his eyes and breathing in the lavender scent that always meant Chester was with him. “While I’m still healthy, we have so much to do. I don’t want to waste a second. I don’t want to spend a moment apart. I want to travel and see the kids and their families. I want to sit on the patio and drink coffee. I want to listen to music, I want to paint and create and love you with every part of myself. I’m scared, Ches,” he finally admitted, his teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip. “I’m scared that we won’t have enough time to do all the things I want to do.”

“Me, too,” Chester whispered, kissing Mike’s cheek. “But I promise you, when the time comes, when you leave me, Mike, I won’t be far behind.”

“Don’t say that,” Mike whispered back, his tears threatening to choke him. 

“But it’s true,” Chester insisted. “Do you think I can go on without you? Would you be able to go on without me?” He pulled away and looked into Mike’s eyes. “It won’t matter, Mike. You’ll be gone, and I’ll still be here. And I’m telling you, I won’t be far behind. When you go, you’ll already have part of me anyway.”

Mike regarded his husband for a silent moment, taking note of the fierce loyalty and love, the fight that was there in Chester’s eyes. “Okay, Ches,” he finally whispered. “If that’s how it’s going to be, then I promise you, I won’t let go until you’re ready. And we can go together.”

**

Chester was startled as Otis sat the coffee mug down in front of him, the memory of a conversation from years ago sharp in his mind. _Otis is right. It’s me. Mike’s holding on because of me. But it’s not because he’s worried about me, that he’s fighting for me until I’m ready to let him go. He’s waiting for me to be ready to let go with him. He needs to hear me say it._

He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, calmness and clarity washing over him. _My stubborn Mikey, holding on until I’m ready to let this all go._ He looked around at what he could see of the home - the life - they’d built together, and none of it mattered anymore. _Oh, love… I’m ready to let go. I’m tired, too. We’ve said our goodbyes. Now you need me to say it to you, too. I promise you, I’ll be there. I promise you, you won’t need to wait for me very long._

He waited for Otis to turn away before he quietly dumped his coffee into the small potted cactus on the table. 

****  
TBC


	7. Life and Death

Chester took the stairs slowly, his mind surprisingly calmer and clearer than it had been for months, and particularly over the past few weeks. The stress of making the decision to have Mike placed in hospice care had weighed on him. He was thinner, and weaker himself, but that was all his own doing and he knew that. Every bit of himself, his love and energy, had been poured into Mike the past weeks. Chester needed Mike to know that he was there still, that he was caring for him and loving him through everything. Through the end. He had struggled to come to terms with the reality that having Mike in hospice truly meant the end was close, but now that was all in the past. His feelings of helplessness, his anger over how unfair it all was, that was gone. 

Two weeks ago he hadn’t been ready to say goodbye. Two weeks ago he hadn’t been able to think of having the kids all home, of seeing the guys, of wrapping up loose ends with his and Mike’s legal affairs. Sitting down to go over the power of attorney documents where he’d designated Talinda as the one to make his medical decisions was the only thing that had been easy. 

_“I just need to know that you’ll uphold my wishes, Tal. If you’re not willing to do it, I need to find someone who will.” Chester looked around the cozy living room and tried to smile. He knew he was asking a lot of his ex-wife, but if there was anyone he could trust, it was Talinda._

_“Chester…” Talinda looked up from the document Chester had slid over in front of her on the table. “You know I’ll do whatever you want, as long as you’re certain.” The signature of both Chester’s lawyer, a notary, and two witnesses were at the bottom of the page, indicating he was of sound mind when he signed the paper._

_Chester reached over and put his arm around his ex-wife, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “It is… don’t let anyone do anything different than what’s in here, Tal.”_

Now he was ready. Goodbyes had been said. Chester only had to tell Mike that everything was okay, and then they could leave this life together, for whatever forever had planned for them. 

He took the last step into the upstairs landing and looked down the hallway at the doors that lead into the kids’ rooms. He thought about the nights when they were all young, and he and Mike had struggled to get everyone in bed on time. He remembered the way the girls had argued over the bathroom in every way teenage girls could find to argue - about products left on the vanity or used by someone they didn’t belong to, about showers that were too long and wet towels left on the floor, about hogging the mirrors and leaving hair in the drain. Chester shook his head as memories flooded over him. How they had survived the teenage years with four girls was still a mystery to him. 

Now, the house was far too big for Chester and Mike alone on a regular basis, but they had never been able to make themselves downsize. It came in handy on the occasions when they had a lot of the family together, and Mike had been especially reluctant to move from so many decades worth of memories. _One day I won’t be able to remember these things,_ he’d told Chester so stubbornly. _We don’t know how it will go, Ches. Maybe being here, the place we spent our life together, will help me remember._

Now Chester made the walk down the hall, past each room that whispered to him, reminding _him_ of years gone by. Each step brought him closer to Mike, and the decision he’d made downstairs. He mentally scolded himself, not understanding how he hadn’t realized why MIke was holding on so hard before. Mike was waiting for him. It took Otis to help him understand what he needed to do.

He pushed the bedroom door open. Hana was gone, and Chester hadn’t crossed paths with her yet. _She must be in her room,_ he decided, leaving the door open and crossing to Anna. “Hey,” he whispered, touching her shoulder softly. Anna looked up at him, and Chester could see that her eyes were red. “It’s okay,” he offered, holding his hand out to her.

Anna nodded, her face crumpling with emotion and tears as she stood up and flung herself into Chester’s arms. “I’m sorry, Chester,” she sobbed. “It’s so hard…”

“I know,” Chester soothed, his hands drifting slowly up and down her back. “It’s not fair.” They embraced until Anna’s tears stopped, and Chester kissed the top of her hair. “It’s good you got to talk to him one more time. Was he awake at all? Did he know you were here?”

Anna nodded, wiping her face with her hands before she took a deep breath. “He did. At least for a minute, he did.” She walked over to the windows, motioning for Chester to follow her. Anna saw him look at Mike for a second before he came to her, and she lowered her voice, taking his hand. “Chester… I want you to know, I forgive you, too. I did, a long time ago. But I told Mike just now, and I wanted to tell you, too.” Her eyes drifted over to Mike and then back up to meet Chester’s. 

“Thank you.” Chester knew that Mike had needed to hear Anna’s forgiveness, just like he’d needed to see the guys and say goodbye to the children. “That means a lot to both of us, Anna.” He let her hand go and turned to look out the window. “I know things were hard for awhile, but you did a great job with the kids, and letting them just be kids and still love their father. You’re a good woman.” Chester turned back to look at Anna’s profile. “Thank you for loving him enough to let him be happy.” 

“That’s what love is, right? Wanting the best for the person you love? Wanting them to be happy? Once I was mature enough to figure that out, the rest fell into place.” Anna took a deep breath and turned to meet Chester’s eyes. “Do you need anything before I leave? I know Hana is staying, and that Tyler is here, but if you need me to run out and pick up something to eat, or anything else-”

“No, thanks,” Chester cut Anna off firmly. “I’ll probably just spend the rest of the evening up here with him. I’m glad you came,” he added, turning away from the windows and moving back toward Mike. “If you don’t mind shutting the door on your way out…” his voice trailed off as he went back to Mike’s side.

“Well, if you need something, let me know.” Anna stood awkwardly for a moment, watching as Chester leaned over the bed and brushed Mike’s hair back so tenderly. She saw him barely nod in her direction, and she took that as her cue to leave. 

Chester didn’t even notice she was gone. He pulled the chair close to Mike and sat down, softly touching his husband’s cheeks and then his lips. “Mikey,” he whispered. “Love, I’m back.” Chester waited for Mike to stir, but he didn’t move at all. Gingerly, Chester settled his head down on Mike’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. He closed his eyes and thought of the hundreds of times he’d listened to Mike’s heart over the years. The heart that Mike had lovingly reminded Chester on a daily basis - _my heart is for you. Only you, Ches._

He breathed in and caught the lavender between them. “I’m ready, Mike,” he confessed timidly. “I was downstairs, talking to Otis, and I realized, he’s right. You’ve been holding on, love, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m ready.” He lifted his head to look at Mike’s pale face, his heart squeezing in sorrow when his husband didn’t open his eyes. “I’m ready to go with you, Mike. I promised you that I would. We’ll be like those couples who’ve been married for decades and die peacefully in their sleep together.” He smiled briefly. “I know I don’t have any control over that, but I have faith that God is not going to leave me here long without you. I’ve been tortured enough in this life, it would be cruel to make me live without you.”

Chester petted his hand down Mike’s arm until he could lace their fingers together. “I’ve always followed where you’ve gone. From that very first night. That night after my audition, and you said you wanted pizza.” Chester stopped, a smile touching his lips. “I watched you eat a whole pizza that night while you talked. I’d never heard someone talk about the future with so many plans, with so much certainty. You had me completely sold on our future. From that very first night, Mikey, I was yours. I’ll always be yours. I love you so much.”

Those last words were said on a choked-back sob, and Chester realized there were tears running down his face. “We’re going to be together, my love. I promised you forever, and I meant it.” He lifted himself up to leave a salty kiss on Mike’s lips, a new resolve in his heart. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to brush my teeth, and I’ll be back to get you ready for bed. I’m going to read to you, and then we’ll go to sleep together.” He stood up to hurry away to the bathroom, moving as quickly as he could.

Even though he couldn’t open his eyes, Mike felt Chester leave, and he answered his husband inside his head. _Don’t be long, Ches. I’m ready to sleep. I’m ready, too. It’s time. Come read me a bedtime story. A forever story._

**

“T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.” Chester turned the page and handed the book to Mike.

“The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.” Mike looked around the living room and smiled. It was their first Christmas all together after he and Chester married in the summer. All the girls were in red footie pajamas with snowmen all over them, even Anna and Talinda, and the boys were in green footie pajamas with reindeer, even Mike and Chester. There were piles of pillows and blankets, tangles of arms and legs and dogs, the happy chaos of a family assembled on a holiday.

They’d spent the afternoon baking and decorating cookies together, all fourteen of them in the Shinoda kitchen. There was hot chocolate and marshmallows, and more cookie cutters than Mike had ever seen. There was icing and candies everywhere, and more than once he’d had Chester’s finger in his mouth asking him to taste this or that. It was hard to taste and move on when all he wanted to do was carry Chester upstairs and eat red and green sprinkles off his naked skin. 

When they first began their affair, Mike could never have imagined they would be able to continue their Christmas tradition, having both families together. There were so many memories of cabins in the snow, the Bennington’s house, the Shinoda’s house. Presents, meals, and shared closeness. It was Mike’s favorite time of the year, and he was pleased that everyone was getting along enough for the tradition to remain a reality. Even Draven was there. It was Chester’s year to have him for the holiday, so they had all the kids for once. All ten of them. And now they were all together, with Mike and Chester sharing the duty of reading the last bedtime story before everyone settled in for the night.

“The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,” Mike started, and both Chester and Jaime snickered. Mike elbowed Chester in the side lightly and whispered a reminder to behave like an adult before he went on, “gave a luster of mid-day to objects below.” He met Chester’s mirthful eyes as he passed off the book, and shook his head. “You’re a mess,” he said just as Josie climbed into his lap from the floor. He pressed a kiss to her hair as she snuggled in close, her small body fitting tightly against him.

**

“Mikey… I’m back.”

The picture faded from Mike’s mind at the sound of Chester’s voice. It didn’t matter how hard he wanted to hold on to the memory. The more he tried, the more out of reach any memory became. Mike managed to roll his lips inward, wetting them with the tip of his tongue before he whispered, “Ches.”

Chester looked up sharply, brushing Mike’s hair from his forehead before he opened the pack of lavender cloths he’d taken from the bathroom after brushing his teeth. “Hi, love.” Hana had poked her head in a minute ago to check on them, and Chester had shooed her away, telling her that Mike was sleeping for the rest of the night. He wondered if she would hear Mike talking back now. Once he finally got Hana to leave them alone, to retreat to her childhood bedroom to worry or cry or whatever she needed to do now that Anna and Otis had gone, he didn’t want to have to do it again. As selfish as it was, this was time for him to talk to Mike, and he didn’t want to be interrupted. Chester wanted to make certain that Mike understood what he was trying to say, and that could be a delicate process.

 _He was alert for Anna for a few minutes. I know he’ll come back to me long enough to hear what I’m saying._ Chester opened the packet of wipes and took one out before he sat down on the bed next to Mike. He glanced toward his husband’s face every few seconds. It was a habit now to look for Mike’s slow and steady breathing constantly, even when he was right there next to him. “I didn’t think you’d come back to me today. You haven’t been awake much,” Chester admitted. “You haven’t eaten anything.” His eyes strayed over to the window, where the sun was disappearing at the end of another day. _Another day we had together… another day I watched him sleep more than anything else._ He felt the twist of pain to his heart as he left a gentle kiss on Mike’s cheek and waited for his husband’s eyes to open. 

But they didn’t open. “Is it Christmas?” Mike asked after a long while, his voice tired and timid. 

“No, love. It’s not Christmas. It’s April.” Chester’s eyes squeezed shut for a minute as visions of Christmases past crossed his mind. Christmas meant family, and especially in the last few years, it had been a time when everyone was together, despite their very separate adult lives. It made sense that with everyone coming in and out the past few days, with the children all near, that Mike was confused. 

“But… we were reading the book.” Mike’s forehead crinkled as he tried to figure out why he and Chester were reading _The Night Before Christmas_ if it wasn’t Christmas.

“The Night Before Christmas?” Chester asked, knowing immediately which book Mike was asking about. _It’s because I mentioned reading to him. He heard me._

The change in Mike’s expression was instant, the concern smoothing out as he whispered, “yeah.” 

“It’s a good tradition.” Chester smiled softly as he thought about the years he and Mike had shared the book together with all the kids. Even the Christmas when Hana was almost eighteen, when all the other children were with the families they had started, he and Mike still sat next to each other and read the book aloud. 

As each of their children married and moved away, with ideas of children of their own one day, Mike and Chester purchased a copy of the book, hoping the tradition would live on in each house. It was something they’d both missed once Hana was grown and away at college… but this past Christmas, there had been a full house assembled, and they hadn’t missed the opportunity. “It was fun reading it to the grandkids,” Chester added, his thoughts full of small faces, and he wondered where the time had gone that instead of looking into the small faces of his children, he was looking into the small faces of his grandchildren.

“Christmas is my favorite,” Mike mumbled. It was so hard to talk.

“Mine too, love.” Chester kissed Mike’s forehead. _Maybe Anna mentioned Christmas. Or maybe his mind is just bringing up happy memories._ “You’re making yourself tired,” he said as he wiped over Mike’s skin carefully. 

“But… Christmas,” Mike whined softly.

“Okay, we’ll talk about more Christmases,” Chester soothed. “One of my favorites is the Christmas you swore off wine in front of me.” He almost said, _do you remember_ but he caught himself. “We were at the cabin. The little boys were maybe two and three, and Abi had just been born. We made each other gifts. You made me shoes and I made you the painting. The one downstairs.” He lifted Mike’s arm and held it across his lap, his eyes going to Mike’s tattoo they’d gotten so long ago. The sun made out of Chester’s flames, and his initials in the center. 

Mike took a long breath. “I remember,” he breathed out. His mind pulled up an image of Anna and Talinda drinking wine at the bar while he and Chester wrote song lyrics. That was a favorite Christmas of his, too. And the one after they moved studios. “And singing. I want to sing with you.”

Chester’s heart pinched. “It’s been a long time since we sang together, Mikey.” He finished cleaning Mike’s skin and his hands were trembling. It was a combination of emotion and exhaustion. “We should have made a Christmas album. I should have let you turn on the mics that night in the studio. The first Christmas in the new place.”

Mike smiled weakly. Chester always knew exactly what he was thinking, even when he couldn’t say the words anymore. “Yeah.” 

“I wanted a live tree and you said no, I’d burn the place down,” Chester recalled. “And when you wanted to play for me, I wouldn’t let you record it. I should have. It would be fun to listen to now.” Chester leaned forward on put the package of wipes and the discarded one on the bedside table. “Did you hear the rest of what I said to you earlier, Mike?”

There was a long pause before Mike mumbled, “yeah.” He’d heard everything, even when he couldn’t respond. He felt Chester’s hands on his cheeks and he used every ounce of energy he had to open his eyes again. His husband was right there, hovering, and their eyes connected.

Chester stared down into Mike’s eyes. He could feel their souls connecting, making peace with everything. “I’m ready, okay? I know you’re tired, and I know you’re trying for me, but you don’t have to be so strong. You don’t have to be so stubborn. There is no life for me without you, Mike. When you leave me, just promise me you’ll wait for me on the other side. I’ll find you again, I swear it to you.” 

Mike felt a single tear leak from the corner of his eye, slipping down past his ear where it dropped silently into the pillowcase. “I’ll wait for you,” he promised, holding Chester’s fervent gaze as long as he could before his eyelids dragged down again. “Come find me, Ches,” he breathed. “You’re mine.”

Chester nodded, his own tears falling to Mike’s face. “Only mine,” he whispered. “I love you more than you can imagine.”

Mike’s response came in single, labored breaths. “And… I… love… you…”

Chester climbed into bed next to Mike and buried his face next to his husband’s neck. He listened to his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. He matched his breaths to Mike’s and fell asleep, the bedtime story unread.

****

“Daddy? Daddy… wake up.”

Chester groaned softly at the sound of his daughter’s voice. “I’m fine,” he mumbled into Mike’s shoulder. 

“Come on, Daddy, please… you haven’t been out of bed in two days,” Hana pleaded. She looked over at her older brother, Tyler, who shook his head. There were tears in her voice as she tried again. “You need to eat something.”

“No,” Chester grumbled stubbornly. He wasn’t hungry. Mike was dying, hanging on by a thread, and Chester wasn’t about to leave him. He didn’t need to eat, he was going with Mike. He’d promised.

“Dad,” Tyler tried, his voice breaking. “Just a little something, you don’t have to eat much. We’ll help you sit up, you don’t have to leave him.”

Chester clung to Mike’s side. “No.” He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to explain. _Why won’t they just leave me alone? Don’t they understand? Mike needs me. I’m not leaving Mike._

He didn’t really hear Hana’s choked sobs as Tyler lead her out of the room, his arm around her shoulders. It wasn’t real. None of it mattered. It was just the way life went. Hana was young, she’d be fine. Tyler, all the kids, they would go on. But he couldn’t go on without Mike. They had to understand that. 

Chester didn’t get up from the bed.

Everything fell into quiet. The master bedroom windows were open, the white sheers fluttering gently in the breeze. Mike was asleep, and the hours were bleeding over into days. Time felt sluggish as life slowly passed over into death. People came in and out of the room, but Chester didn’t acknowledge anyone. He heard them whispering. He didn’t care. 

_I feel it._

Chester opened his eyes and took Mike’s hand. He kept his eyes on Mike’s face, on his labored breathing. He squeezed his fingers, the slender, beautiful piano fingers he loved, and then set Mike’s hand back on his stomach.

He could feel Mike hovering the line between life and death. There was nothing in the room with them but silence and memories, ghosting through the room on the breeze from the windows.

After a while, Chester feathered his fingers through Mike’s hair before he whispered, “Mike.” He waited, his eyes on Mike’s chest, straining to see a breath. There was a cascade of relief over him to see the shallow intake of air, but Mike remained asleep.

They were alone, and Chester knew it was time. He slid down in the bed next to his husband and snuggled close. “I know you can hear me. We’ve seen everyone, Mikey. Said all of our goodbyes. I want you to know, it’s okay to let go. I’m here. I’m ready,” he reminded him.

Chester could hear one bird outside the open window, singing to its mate, the call unanswered. He petted his hand over Mike’s side and kept his eyes closed, as flashes of a lifetime with his husband went through his mind.

*

_”C’mon, Mike, it will look good. I promise!”_

_Mike looked sideways at Chester, his lips already broken into a wide grin as he giggled drunkenly. “I know you won’t give up until I say yes!” He struggled to focus his eyes on Chester’s lip ring._

_“You’re right! Red will be sexy. Now, strip, Shinoda, and get your ass in the bathtub!” He pulled Mike up by his belt loops and they stumbled a few steps together, laughing. Chester was breathless for a moment at Mike’s proximity, at the sparkle and light in his eyes. “C’mon, before you change your mind.”_

_*  
Chester stopped in the doorway, his hand covering his mouth._

_Mike was painting, the windows in the art studio open to allow fresh air to come inside. He paused, his paintbrush hovering over the canvas he’d been working on for hours, and peered again at the picture of Chester he was using for reference._

_A smile crept over Chester’s face. It was the first true portrait he’d seen Mike paint in a long time. He was partial to his little robot heads and abstracts. He leaned against the doorway and watched, silently admiring the man he was in love with._

_*  
“Y’all make some noise for Chester Bennington!” Mike grinned at his husband from behind the keyboard, knowing exactly how much Chester loved the adoration of their crowds, though he’d never admit it._

_“Mike Shinoda, how long do I have to be married to you for you to get my name right?” Chester teased back, both hands draped over the microphone on the stand as he turned to look at Mike. “That’s Chester Bennington-Shinoda to you, sir!”_

_The crowd roared for them and Chester couldn’t remember why they had ever been worried that the fans wouldn’t accept their relationship. Even Brad was grinning while his guitar was traded out._

_*  
“You sure you want to take those out, Mike?” Chester asked, his insides sinking a little. He’d always thought Mike looked extra sexy with his hoop earrings._

_“I think so, it just doesn’t seem like me anymore.” Mike took the jewelry out and laid it on the hotel dresser. “It’s like nail painting, I think I’m too old for that.”_

_Chester stood with his mouth gaping. “Too old? I’ll never be too old for earrings and nail polish. Just for that, I’m gonna get gauges. You’ll see, Mike. I’ll be the sexiest beast ever when we’re forty.” His heart lifted at Mike’s answering grin._

_*_

_“Be still, Hana, let me get a good picture of you and Papa.” Chester sighed as their daughter wiggled away from Mike in her Easter dress._

_“Just take the picture, Ches, you’re never going to get a two year old to stand still when there’s eggs to hunt.” Mike was laughing as he tried to keep Hana in his arms and out of the back garden. They’d spent an hour hiding eggs together, and he was certain Hana would find them all in minutes._

_Chester gave up and met Mike on the porch. “A selfie it is,” he declared, holding the phone out in front of them._

_The picture of the three of them, Mike laughing as he held on to Hana, who was screaming to be let go, with Chester grinning in front, was put in a frame in the living room._

_*_

_“Ches, we’re going to be traveling across Europe! There’s no way we can keep up with all these suitcases!” Mike stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the luggage in front of him. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t say backpacking across Europe.”_

_“Backpacking,” Chester scoffed. “How far do you think we’d get before somebody recognized us?”_

_“Ten feet before someone recognized you, and all this luggage,” Mike declared indignantly. “You’re lucky I love you, Chester. We’re going to need a bus to drive all this around.”_

_“I know you love me,” Chester said confidently, pushing Mike back to the edge of the bed and then down, climbing onto his lap, grinding against him with a grin as Mike turned to jello beneath him. “I’d like to see you try to deny me anything I want, Shinoda.”_

_*_

_“She’s beautiful,” Mike whispered, watching as Chester cradled Draven’s daughter in his arms. “Your first grandbaby, Ches.”_

_Chester looked up at Mike, at the wistful expression on his face, and he shook his head. “Our first grandbaby, Mike. There’s no mine and yours anymore. Only ours.”_

_Mike eyes sparkled as he leaned in for a congratulatory kiss._

_*_

_The sound of ocean waves seemed far away as Chester opened his eyes, the bliss of the first orgasm on their Hawaiian anniversary trip still lingering. He tried to come up with words for how he felt, but Mike was always faster than he was._

_“I love you, you know,” Mike breathed, his eyes dark as he stared down into Chester’s face with reverence. “Until I die, even beyond that, I’ll love you with every ounce of myself, I promise you that.”_

_“I’ll love you forever,” Chester simply offered back, and it was enough._

**

Chester felt the moment that Mike slipped away from him. The exact second that their connection was changed. Not broken, but altered somehow. Chester could feel Mike, but it was different. It wasn’t physical anymore. It was spiritual, and he couldn’t stop the broken sobs as he held on to Mike’s hand. “No, no, no,” he whimpered, wiping the tears away to look at Mike’s precious face, petting over his hair. “Mike, Mike, I love you. I love you.” 

Chester also felt the exact moment his heart snapped into two pieces.

****  
TBC


	8. Ashes and Halos

Chester lay numbly in bed, the big empty space beside him a constant reminder that Mike was gone. He only vaguely remembered when Mike was taken away. Talinda was there. She’d been there the whole time, and he’d buried his face in her lap and cried until he’d fallen asleep. As the days passed, his family came in and out of the bedroom, trying to get him to move, to eat, to shower. 

He remembered almost losing it completely when he came from the bathroom to see Hana taking the pillowcases off their pillows to wash them. He’d snatched Mike’s from her hand and told her - screamed at her - to leave him alone and not to touch Mike’s things. He was drowning in grief even though he’d known for so long that Mike was dying. All of the preparation in the world hadn’t helped to curb the desperate, reckless feelings he hadn’t had in years. With Mike gone there was nothing to stop his hand from taking his own life. Nothing but Talinda.

She was the one who dressed Chester in his suit for Mike’s intimate service a week after he passed. She was the one who tenderly put him to bed that night with two Ambien and slept in the chair by the bed. She was the one who only allowed the children to come in one at a time so they didn’t overwhelm him, and resolutely told anyone who wanted to challenge her that he’d asked her to be the one to take care of things. They all knew she had his wishes and Talinda was fierce about following them.

Chester rubbed at his eyes and opened them. Talinda came into view immediately, blurry and unfocused. “Tal?” he whispered through dry lips. He licked at them with the tip of his tongue, but his tongue was dry, too.

Talinda put her book in her lap and looked over at her ex-husband. “Hey.” There was no need to ask how he was doing, or make any form of small talk. It was obvious that short of swallowing the entire bottle of sleeping pills, Chester was doing everything he could to get to Mike faster. He’d been refusing food and water since Mike’s service. 

“What day is it?” Chester tried to work it out in his head, but his mind was fuzzy from dehydration and he gave up quickly. Everything was so difficult, so heavy, and things were all muddled in his head in the days since Mike had left him. The world was empty without Mike, gray and cold, and he wished more than anything that God would take him now. The idea of Mike alone in the afterlife was more heartbreaking than being left on Earth without him. They had spent fifty years together, and all Chester felt now was an aching emptiness, cut only by the strong desire to end it all.

“It’s Wednesday, Chester.” Talinda reached over and ran her hand over his forehead gently. Her hand was soft and cool to the touch. Chester’s skin was clammy, and she frowned. Despite the open windows and the breeze that moved the sheer white curtains ever so slightly, he was sweaty and warm. 

“How many days?” 

Talinda was silent for a moment, counting. “Twelve,” she said finally. Twelve days since Mike had left him, four since he’d last eaten, two since he’d had any fluids. 

“The flowers…” Chester closed his eyes. They were so heavy. 

“I know. They’re amazing.” Talinda rubbed over Chester’s shaved head soothingly. 

Chester barely nodded, then sighed. A few seconds later he pried his eyes open again and looked around his and Mike’s bedroom. Next to the bed was the dark stone urn holding Mike’s ashes, and a giant bouquet of fifty yellow roses - one for each year he and Mike had been in each other’s lives. A card nestled into the leaves displayed Mike’s blocky letters and his signature - his _real_ signature - the same one tattooed onto Chester’s hip the year they’d married.

_Fifty to Forever. I love you._

The yellow roses had been delivered two days ago, tight buds among feathery green sprigs of leaves, from a florist that Mike had used for years. Talinda hadn’t been able to stifle the astonished gasp when she saw the card, and the shop owner had informed her Mike had been in months ago to sign the card and pay for the flowers, scheduling the delivery date in case he was unable to do it when the anniversary came. 

She’d carried the flowers up to Chester, not knowing how he would react. When she placed then on the table by the bed, Chester knew immediately who they were from, tears spilling silently from his eyes as his gaze locked onto the card and Mike’s signature. In his memory he could picture Mike’s face after that signature was tattooed onto his skin, the complete awe and reverence there. It was as clear as though it were yesterday, when it had in fact been thirty years ago. 

_Mike studied the inked signature before Sean carefully covered it with gauze and a wrap. He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to Chester’s lips. “Wow, Ches… it looks good on you.”_

_“For your eyes only,” Chester said, gingerly pulling up his jeans over the bandage. “Good thing you had your way with me this morning,” he whispered. “It’s going to take a few days for this to heal, you know.” Mike frowned as Chester laughed at his petulant expression. “Don’t worry, we’ll find other ways.”_

They had found other ways - lots of other ways - to enjoy each other while the hip tattoo was carefully tended and lotion rubbed into Chester’s tender skin several times a day by Mike’s careful hand. More often than not that hand had taken a detour over to stroke Chester’s cock, and in the three weeks allowed for the tattoo to heal, he’d gotten more hand jobs from Mike than he could remember having in any other period of their lives. It had been a good time, full of love and laughs and orgasms between them.

Now Chester’s eyes fixed on Mike’s _FOREVER_ , staring unblinking at the capital lettering he felt like he’d known his entire life. _It can’t come fast enough, Mikey. Have you let everyone there know how much I need you? I only ever lived this life for you. I only made it here because of you. Now you’re gone, and all I want is you. I miss you, love. So much it hurts. I want to be with you._

A memory of Mike’s voice echoed in Chester’s head. _Soon, love. We’ll be together soon._

“Tal?” Chester whispered, finally moving his eyes from Mike’s roses to his ex-wife. “Don’t let them take me to the hospital. Don’t let them take me away from here.” 

“Shh, Chester… stop worrying.” Talinda reached for Chester’s hand. “I promised you I’d be here.” She leaned over and left a kiss on Chester’s forehead, then lightly rubbed her cheek against his. A wisp of gray hair had fallen from the loose braid she’d pulled it into earlier, and it tickled the skin between them. “If you’re ready to go to him, Chester, I’m here.”

Chester nodded his head. “I love you. I love the kids, Tal, our kids.”

“I know you do.” Talinda felt the emotion rising in her throat, choking her. She’d never doubted Chester’s love for her or the three children they’d made together. She’d never doubted the grieving man laying in front of her had done the best he could for all of his children… and for her, for the mothers of his children. His love for Mike had made his love for all of them something more than it had been before, had amplified his love with the joy and wonder of the strength of their bond. The security Mike brought to Chester’s life had made his love for his family stronger, and Talinda had never held it against her ex-husband that he had married his best friend. All of their lives were better because Mike had loved Chester. “Go to sleep, Chester.” She pulled back to look Chester in the eyes. “I’ll see you again on the other side.”

A warm sort of peace flowed into Chester’s body as he closed his eyes for the last time. 

****

True to her word, Talinda did not allow Chester to be moved, and the family waited silently for Chester to join Mike. All of the goodbyes had been said before Mike passed, and all that remained was the waiting. Chester’s wishes were clear - there was to be no attempt at prolonging his life - and the children came and left with no bitterness toward him. They all expected that Chester would die of a broken heart.

In his final sleep, Chester was as peaceful as Talinda had ever seen him. Even the lines of age around his eyes were melted away, and for a long while she sat at the side of the bed, looking at the face of the man she had loved enough to let go. Her life after their divorce had been full, and she had never been resentful of him or his choices. Talinda reached out to touch his face one last time, tears slipping silently down her cheeks, as she assured him that he was loved. “You made it, Chester. We love you.”

There was a sense of relief, after so many months of watching Chester care for Mike, after the endless days of watching his grief, that it was all over. All the remained was the memorial, another intimate family gathering, and then the big house was still and silent. The white sheers in the windows of Mike and Chester’s bedroom were stilled, the windows closed, the yellow roses at the bedside wilted and drying. Mike’s card had been placed in the pocket of Chester’s burial suit, but the blooms had been left to fade away on their own in the uninhabited bedroom.

Talinda sat with Anna in the front row of the memorial, her best friend’s head resting gently on her shoulder, as they listened to Brad remember Chester. More than once she heard him pause to collect his emotions, and she focused her eyes and her thoughts on the large photograph of Chester on the easel next to the heaps of daffodils and lilies around the casket. Of the thousands and thousands of photos of Chester Bennington-Shinoda that existed in the world, Talinda had somehow managed to select one that displayed his life and love the best, in her opinion, and she kept her eyes there and away from Brad’s face, pinched with grief.

In the photo there was no microphone, no adoring crowd around him. It was simply Chester at home on the couch, caught in the middle of a laugh, his eyes shining and teeth showing with the small gap on the side that had always been there. Just looking at the picture brought his infectious laughter to mind, and it was impossible to cry and look at that picture at the same time. She’d chosen it exactly for that reason. It was hard to be sad when she knew he was where he wanted to be again - with Mike. 

All of Brad’s words flowed together as Talinda stared at the picture, and suddenly realized that Mike had taken the picture she selected. It didn’t surprise her at all. That beautiful smile was Chester’s smile for Mike, and it all seemed fitting. Chester had built his life around Mike, and Mike had built their life to make Chester the center of the universe. She prayed that they were already together. It had been their greatest hope as Mike’s condition deteriorated. All the two of them wanted was to be together, and Talinda believed in her heart that if Chester could have found a way to cross into death with Mike, he would have. 

She sat and watched as Chester’s close circle of friends, then the children and grandchildren all said their goodbyes. The next time they would gather would be at the house, when Chester’s ashes were returned and reunited with Mike’s. 

It was all part of Chester’s final wishes, and Talinda faithfully carried out every detail, down to the matching stone urn. Together he and Mike had chosen the urns, deciding it didn’t matter if anyone could tell them apart. In their minds, from the day they married, they were one. 

The day she received Chester’s ashes, Talinda sat in the den of Mike and Chester’s house with only the children present. It was Otis and Tyler, fast friends since birth, preteens when their fathers married, who decided to take Mike and Chester back to Hawaii one last time. Once everyone said their final goodbyes, Talinda pulled Tyler into a hug and kissed the grown man who looked so much like his father, handing him the envelope with directions scrawled in Chester’s familiar handwriting. She thought it would please Mike and Chester to know their sons were taking them to their final resting place.

Tyler sat on the couch after his mother left, looking at Chester’s words. Going to Hawaii was a part of his childhood. He remembered the summer vacations spent there, tagging along after his dad had been away for a week already. It wasn’t until he was grown that he realized the two of them had been escaping to Hawaii to relive and recreate good memories together, but even then, Tyler had never realized the symbolism of that place to his dad and step-father. He looked up, catching Otis’ eyes, and held out the letter.

“Here, you should read it too,” he offered quietly, standing up to pace in front of the windows. Tyler gave Otis time to read, and only turned around when he heard his brother sigh. “We have to do it, you know. It’s what they wanted.”

Otis scratched his hand over his black hair and nodded. “It’s so… it’s so _them._ I never knew that beach house was where they had their first vacation together. Did you?” He looked around the downstairs thoughtfully, seeking the photo he knew was somewhere in the den. He pointed over to the framed wedding picture by the television. “I mean, I knew they got married there.”

“Yeah,” Tyler agreed thoughtfully. He walked over to the picture and picked it up. There was his dad and Mike, looking at each other as though they were the only two people on Earth, even though they were surrounded by the other members of _Linkin Park_ and their spouses. “They always got so lost in each other. Consumed, Draven used to call it. I think he got that word from Sam. I don’t think she ever really accepted the way things were.” He carried the photo over to Otis and sat down next to him. “So this is where we’re going.”

They looked at the waterfall in the background together before Otis commented, “Papa has a picture of Dad at this waterfall. It’s in the studio. I’m not sure when he took it, probably one summer when we were doing the family vacation thing there.” He shrugged as he looked up, toward the studio on the far side of the house. “The sun is falling though the water just right, and it looks like there’s a halo around Dad’s head.”

“I’ve seen it.” Tyler nodded. “I heard him teasing Dad once that he looked like an angel.” They smiled at each other, the same knowing smile they’d shared as kids when Mike and Chester expressed their love in front of their children. “They were really something together, weren’t they?”

“The very best example of love we could have ever had.” Otis waved the letter from Chester in his hand. “Come on, I think we have flight arrangements to make.”

**

_Mike felt Chester behind him before he heard him, which was unusual for the vocalist. He was smiling before his husband’s arms even went around his neck. “What are you doing, Ches?” he murmured, clicking save on the audio file open in from of him. His eyes closed as soon as Chester’s wet tongue hit the outside of his ear._

_“Distracting you,” Chester whispered, running his hand down the front of Mike’s shirt._

_A low laugh, the one reserved especially for Chester, escaped as Mike caught the wandering hand and held it close. “You know we have a deadline, right?” He was trying to be good. He knew what would happen if he allowed Chester’s hand to make it all the way down to the button at the front of his jeans._

_“A deadline,” Chester whined before quickly nipping his teeth at Mike’s earlobe. “You’re always talking about deadlines. It’s been an entire _day_ Mike, come on. I might _die_ if I can’t have you now.” He heard Mike’s sigh and knew he was already close to wearing him down. After all, they were still in the honeymoon phase, and all the kids were away for the weekend. “I know you want me,” he husked seductively._

_“You’re a little devil, you know that?” Mike complained, turning in his desk chair to grab Chester by the hips._

_Chester stuck his bottom lip out and gave Mike his best innocent pouty eyes. “I thought I was your angel.”_

_Mike’s eyes flicked over to the picture on the desk, the one he’d given Chester as part of his marriage proposal. It was from their first trip to Hawaii, the one with Chester’s profile against the waterfall backdrop, a white halo created by the mist around his head. “You’re an angel and a devil all in one,” he decided, teasing Chester with a wink and a grin. “I never know what I’m going to get with you.”_

_“Oh, I can give you an angel and a devil at the same time,” Chester promised, climbing onto Mike’s lap in the chair and sitting right atop Mike’s thighs. “I know that’s what you like. A little bit of both.” He leaned forward and sucked a wet spot to Mike’s neck, rocking his hips down and enjoying the friction between them._

_A moan escaped from Mike’s lips before he could stop himself, all thoughts of deadlines gone as Chester’s nimble hands crept under his clothing. “Ches,” he breathed, his hands sliding up Chester’s back, “we’re going to miss the deadline.”_

_“Fuck the deadline,” Chester decided between kisses. “The label can wait. I have to have you, love. Right now.”_

**

Otis and Tyler waited until July to make the trip to Hawaii. They each carried one urn, climbing the trail together to the secluded clearing at the waterfall where their fathers married thirty years ago. The scent of tuberoses and plumeria surrounded them, and it was as sunny and warm as that afternoon, though neither Otis nor Tyler would have known that. Neither of them knew whose ashes were whose as they opened the urns and stood facing the waterfall, the rush of the water and the sounds of living creatures filling the air around them.

They watched as the Earthly remains of their fathers mixed together in the breeze, the ever-present mist throwing rainbows through the ashes as they drifted away in wisps of memories, one life lived together, one love shared forever. 

****  
TBC


End file.
